Remus Lupin and The Secret He Could Not Keep
by myheadsgonenumb
Summary: Marauder era fic. Remus is starting his first year at Hogwarts... but not only does he have to worry about turning up with second hand robes and hand me down spell books, he also has a secret which, if discovered, will see him kicked out of the wizarding world altogether. But his new friends are just so damned inquisitive .. and then there is Snape...
1. Chapter 1: The Visitor

**Remus Lupin and The Secret He Could Not Keep**

 ** _Chapter 1: The Visitor_**

It was night time, when the visitor arrived out of the blue. Remus was ready for bed, and was just brushing his teeth, when he heard the knocking on the door. 'Who can that be?' he heard his mother's voice ask, 'at this time of night?' Her tone was anxious. Hope Lupin was always anxious these days… and Remus knew that that was his fault. He turned the tap off and left the bathroom. Standing on the landing, he hung over the banister so he could listen in.

The door opened. 'Lyall!' a voice greeted his father, 'I trust you are doing well? I must say your magnolias are doing splendidly.'

Remus couldn't see the new arrival - but he guessed he must be one of his father's kind, if he greeted Lyall Lupin so familiarly. A wizard. The thought made the young boy take a step backwards, into the dark, and his whole body seemed to shrink a little - like he was making himself as small and unobtrusive as possible. A wizard might spell trouble for the family. They might have to move again. In his mind's eye, he could see the crumpled, worried expression that would have taken up residence on his mother's face, as she realised the magical world had caught up with them once more.

'D-Dumbledore?' Lyall stammered, 'what are you doing here?'

That made Remus's ears prick up and - against his better judgement - he snuck down the first couple of stairs, so he could listen in better. 'Come on in,' his father invited the old wizard into their home and - as the new headmaster of Hogwarts entered the small living room - Remus got his first good look at him.

He was very tall, and his long nose was crooked - like it had been broken at some point in time... possibly more than once. He wore flowing, deep blue robes and a pointy wizard's hat. Both were embellished with stars and, due to his height, the tip of his hat brushed against the low ceiling of the cottage. His long auburn hair and beard were fading to white, and he wore half moon spectacles. Behind those, his light blue eyes twinkled in the firelight. He looked kindly - but Remus could tell from their stiff demeanour that his parents were still worried.

'Can I offer you anything? A - a cup of tea?' Hope asked the unexpected guest. It seemed that Dumbledore could sense her anxiety, as he settled himself onto the armchair and smiled at her genially, refusing her offer. 'No need to trouble yourself Hope, my dear… I've brought…' he produced a bottle from one of his capacious sleeves, 'finest oak matured mead - join me for a snifter?' With a flick of his wand, three glasses appeared in mid air, and the bottle poured its contents into them. Then, two of the glasses zoomed over to the Lupins, sloshing the amber liquid as it went. They plucked them out of the air and sat down on the sofa, so they were facing Dumbledore.

'Um - Albus - not that this isn't a welcome surprise,' Lyall said, 'but what can we do for you?'

The older wizard took a sip of his mead, shifted around so he was more comfortable, and then took a letter out his sleeve. Remus wondered what else he kept up there. 'I'm here to talk to you about the letter you sent me… regarding your boy - Remus, isn't it?'

Lyall and Hope gulped - and glanced at one another.

'You say you're not going to be sending him to Hogwarts,' Dumbledore continued. 'I must say that is a shame. You're a fine wizard, Lyall - and I don't see any reason to think Remus will be any different. Hogwarts is the best place for him, you must realise that?'

'In any other circumstances…' Lyall began to say.

'He will be safer here, with us,' Hope interrupted. 'My family aren't magic, Mr. Dumbledore, and Remus will be safer amongst people like us - you must see how it is.'

Dumbledore nodded slowly. 'There is - regrettable prejudice - in the Wizarding world around people with Remus's condition, and I hope that over time this will change - so that by the time Remus is a man, he can live a full a happy life free from the troubles he currently suffers. And my dear,' he smiled his warm smile at Hope, 'I understand completely why you would feel he will be better off amongst the muggles - who will not know what he is or treat him with that prejudice. But the truth is… Remus is not a muggle.' He took another sip of mead, and then turned his kindest expression on the worried parents sat before him. 'He is magic -and he needs to learn to control that magic - and will be better off amongst other witches and wizards his own age, learning alongside him.'

Up on the staircase, Remus sat down and leaned forward - clinging to the rails of the banister. He was holding his breath. His letter inviting him to Hogwarts had arrived not long ago - and it had broken his heart when his father had gently explained to him that - even though he was magic enough to qualify - he simply couldn't go. 'They mustn't know about you already,' Lyall had said, 'that's good - it means we've protected you well. But you can't hide lycanthropy at a boarding school. You would be a danger to the others. You would hurt them...'

Remus had opened his mouth to protest, but his father had cut him off, 'I know you wouldn't want to, but you know how your transformations are. You couldn't help it. And I shudder to think what they would do with you if you hurt a fellow student during the full moon.' And, with great regret, Remus had had to agree ... he didn't want to get sent to Azkaban. He would be safer at home. The other students would be safer if he were at home. It could not be.

But now, Dumbledore was here - and if Remus was following the conversation properly - he _did_ already know about his lycanthropy - and the headmaster still thought he should attend the school. Remus could not understand it - and neither, apparently did his mother.

'They will not want a werewolf learning alongside them,' Hope said. Her tone was cold. She had accepted her husband's magic - and the world he lived in - when she had met him. She had loved him, so she had had no choice. But once her precious little boy had been bitten, she had become afraid of the wizarding world - and increasingly angry at the way they would treat an innocent child for having a condition which was not his fault. Now, 12 years after first meeting her husband, she wanted to keep her family as far away from magic as possible.

'My dear,' Dumbledore winked at her, 'they do not need to know.'

'He shouldn't have to hide who is,' she replied - her voice was still cold.

'No,' Dumbledore's voice became sad, 'you're quite right - he shouldn't. It is to the wizarding world's eternal shame that any child should find themselves in Remus's position. But I'm afraid, my dear - Remus has no choice but to hide what he is, one way or the other. You want to keep him with your muggle family, where he will forever have to conceal his true nature as a wizard - and a werewolf. I am suggesting that he join the magical community, and keep his condition a secret. Of course - he may, in time, reveal it to those he loves and trusts… but whichever path is chosen - secrecy _will_ be a part of his life. I am simply asking that you can reconsider and let him take up his place at Hogwarts.' The headmaster glanced around the little room, it was threadbare and shabby. The little house was in the middle of nowhere - and was hard to get to. It had been chosen specifically for it's remote positioning. Chosen specifically to deter visitors. 'This must be a very lonely life for a young boy,' he commented.

The Lupin's looked at each other, again. Since Remus had been bitten they had had to move several times in order to keep him hidden. Lyall had had to give up working at the ministry. They were poor, they were constantly afraid, Hope was getting sick… but this had been the best they could do for their son. He was their world - and protecting him was their priority. It had always seemed to them that it would be impossible for Remus to join the world he belonged in. Not only would he not be welcome at school - where he could learn how to control his magic - but he would have no future amongst the wizards. Werewolves lived on the margins, homeless and penniless. They were driven out of communities, refused work, and had to resort to crime in order to survive. They had always thought Remus would stand a better chance in the muggle world - where he could pass off his condition as an illness and find employment that he could fit around the full moon.

But now, Dumbledore was suggesting there was another way - that he would be welcome at the school after all. 'How would you keep him safe?' Lyall asked, 'and the other students? How would you keep his secret?'

'I have one or two ideas,' Dumbledore admitted, ' and if you are willing to reconsider your position - we can go over them until they are to your satisfaction, but now,' he cleared his throat and smiled again, 'I do believe the walls have ears. The boy has been listening in to every word…'

Remus scrambled to his feet and ran back up the stairs, he heard his mother get off the sofa and come to the foot of the stairs, 'Remus,' she called up, 'you get to bed now!' He fled into his bedroom, but he didn't shut the door. Once he heard her footsteps move away from the stairs, he crept back out onto the landing and strained his hearing to listen in to the rest.

'Now now - Hope, my dear,' Dumbledore was saying, 'the boy is old enough to be a part of this decision. Tell him the facts and let him make up his own mind… well, it is quite late enough and I have given you a lot to think about. Goodnight, Lyall, Hope...' and Remus heard the front door open, and then close again behind the headmaster.

He returned to his bedroom and lay down, his mind a tumultuous whirl. Hogwarts. He didn't know that much about it. His mother hadn't gone - she had no magic - and his father rarely spoke of it. They had always assumed Remus would not be able to go. But now Dumbledore was the headmaster and - cut off from the wizarding world as he was - even Remus had heard of Albus Dumbledore… and how _odd_ he was.

Dumbledore was willing to let him go to school. He could learn how to use his magic. He could make some friends. He wouldn't be alone anymore…

He closed his eyes - and tried to picture what the place might look like. He knew it was a castle, and he knew there was a lake… and it was in the Highlands. He could go and live in a castle. And be a wizard. Because Dumbledore was willing to let him…

He smiled to himself, as he drifted off to sleep - and dreamt of castles and mountains and friends. For the first time, in a long time, his dreams were not disturbed by images of Fenrir Greyback - and teeth and fur - and pain.


	2. Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

**_Chapter 2: Diagon Alley_**

Despite the fact that it was mid August, the day was grey and blustery. Remus didn't care, however, no amount of bad weather would be able to dampen his spirits. His father was taking him to Diagon Alley to get his school supplies and the young werewolf had to keep pinching himself to check he wasn't dreaming. He was really going to Hogwarts! They were really going to let him go to school!

A letter had arrived the previous week, written in green ink on creamy parchment, detailing all the books he would need for his classes, along with a telescope, a pewter cauldron and his school robes. Lyall already had most of the books - they had been on the book list back when he had attended Hogwarts, and he was the type that liked to keep old things 'just in case'. He also had a standard sized cauldron and a battered telescope he could give to the boy. This was just as well, as money was tight, and the school supply list was extensive. They would have to get his robes second hand - rather than go to Madam Malkin's for new - and he wouldn't be able to take an animal to school. But Lyall had promised that he would buy his son some fresh parchment, a new quill and - best of all - a brand new wand, all of his own.

Hope was still worrying. She hadn't gone to Hogwarts, of course, and she hadn't gone to a muggle boarding school, either. Sending her beloved son away for weeks at a time was an alien and upsetting idea for her. And that was before she factored in Remus' condition. She was suspicious of the wizarding world now, and wary of how the magic community would treat her son. She hated the thought of sending him into that world as - having no magic of her own - she couldn't follow him there to protect him. But she put her fussing to one side and tried to smile, brightly, as her son climbed onto the back of his father's rather beaten up broom. She waved, as the men in her family flew up into the sky, until they were out of sight. Then she went back inside and stoked up the fire. Even though it was August, it was damp inside their little cottage, and she had a slight cough…

It was cold, up on the broom, they had to fly high enough that the muggles couldn't see them and, because of the cloud cover, they were soon soaked through. Lyall had one hand on the handle of the broom - steering - and the other clutching onto his wizard's hat, keeping it clamped around his ears for warmth. But Remus had no hat - and his muggle jeans and thin sweater clung to his skin. His hair was plastered against his head, the wind whistled in his ears, and droplets of water dribbled down his back. But even this wasn't enough to dampen his spirits.

Nevertheless, it was with a feeling of immense relief, that they made their descent down into the street below and entered the Leaky Cauldron. There was a warm fire blazing in the hearth of the tap room, and the soaking Remus scurried over to it - and felt his whole body relax, as the heat washed over him. His father went to the bar, and ordered two bottles of butterbeer. 'Lyall!' Tom the toothless barman greeted him, 'haven't seen you around in an age!'

Lyall smiled uncomfortably, 'ha-haven't had much need for Diagon Alley in a while now,' he answered, 'my wife's a muggle - you know how it is.'

Tom nodded. Many who married outside of the magical community seemed to fall by the wayside - moving to live amongst their new family and putting their wands away. It was why so many wizards feared their children marrying muggles. 'So what brings you here now?' he asked.

This time, Lyall's smile was proud, 'my boy got his letter to Hogwarts,' he nodded in the direction of the fire and Tom looked across at the young boy that sat there. Even though he was only just starting out in life - the lad already had a world weary look in his eyes, and a pinched expression that suggested he was used to pain. The barman sucked his gums… the lad's clothes were shabby, and he looked ill - and Lyall looked little better. He grinned at his customer, 'well - congratulations! Drinks on the house!'

'Oh, I couldn't possibly….'

'No no I insist - it's not everyday your boy gets his Hogwarts letter. That's cause to celebrate.'

Lyall thanked him, and took the drinks over to the fire - handing one to his son. 'Here, this should warm you up.' Remus took the bottle gratefully, and took a swig. The creamy, frothy liquid was warm in his throat, and it slid down smoothly and sat in his belly - like someone had lit a fire there, as well. He grinned at his father, 'so where do we go first?' he asked, eagerly, 'to get my wand?'

Lyall chuckled - no, their first stop would have to be Gringotts of course. Once they had got some wizarding money, out of the bank, then they could pick up his robes, the few books he still needed, his parchment, ink and quill, 'and then we'll get your wand last of all,' he told his son. 'Always save the best 'til last, Remus. Gives you something to look forward to.'

Remus glugged away at his butterbeer, 'well - can we get going, then - can we, dad?' Lyall laughed again, 'you'll make yourself sick, drinking it in one go like that… we've plenty of time.'

The young werewolf looked at his watch, 'what time does everything shut?'

'Not for hours - relax - get warm. We've got all day to shop.'

But Remus kept on checking his watch, until finally, Lyall gave in. 'You need to learn some patience,' he told his son, but his eyes were twinkling as he said it. 'Come on then,' and he took him out to the yard behind the pub. He took out his wand and then counted the bricks, 'three up, two across,' he muttered to himself and tapped the brick he came to. The wall then seemed to pull apart, changing shape until a large archway stood in front of the pair of them. Lyall glanced down at his son, the boy's face was gleaming with excitement, 'welcome to Diagon Alley,' Lyall said.

They walked down the cobbled street, Remus' eyes were popping, as he took in the ancient buildings all sloped and huddled against each other - and the exciting things they were all selling. There was a large barrel of newt eyes outside one shop, and another of dragon livers. '15 sickles' the sign read. 'We'll need to get you some potions ingredients,' Lyall told his son, as they passed by, 'but all in good time.'

They passed 'Flourish and Blotts' the bookstore, and 'Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.' There was a low, hooting sound coming from 'Eeylops owl emporium' and there was a large crowd gathered outside 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'; all admiring the brand new model of Silver Arrows that had recently hit the market.

And then - up ahead - by far the largest and grandest building on the street, was Gringott's wizarding bank. Run by goblins, and guarded by dragons, it was where the whole British wizarding community kept their gold. It was a palace of white, shining marble and it gleamed, even in the murkiness of the weak, summer sun. The large, burnished bronze doors were flanked by two goblins in red and gold uniforms. The creatures were small, and had long noses and glinting black eyes. They looked very carefully at Remus, as he walked past them, and he had the strangest sensation that they could see right through him - and knew exactly what he was.

Inside the entrance hall were yet more doors - silver this time - and a warning was engraved on them. Remus read it, and shivered. 'What do they do with bank robbers, dad?' he asked. Hope sometimes took him to the cinema, and he'd seen films about bank robberies and train robberies and they were always exciting adventure movies. They'd recently gone to see 'Butch Cassidy and The Sundance kid', and whilst his mum had smiled dreamily up at Paul Newman, Remus had imagined himself as a daring outlaw… he just needed a partner. But on reading the unsettling words the goblins had etched into the metal of the doors, he suddenly found the idea of theft and plunder had rather lost it's shine.

'I don't know,' Lyall whispered to his son, as they passed the next set of goblins, 'but I do know that in 500 years - no one has ever successfully broken in - and got back out again.'

'We'll be careful not to take anything that's not ours - won't we, dad?' Remus asked. Lyall nodded.

They went into the main hall of the bank, and went up to the first available counter. 'I'd like to visit my vault please,' Lyall said to the goblin who peered down at him, 'number 437,'

'Key,' the goblin said, holding out a long fingered claw. Lyall handed the small, gold key over, and the goblin examined it. 'Hmm - this seems to be all in order - Gurnak!' another goblin came hurrying over, 'take Mr Lupin and his…' the goblin eyed Remus very carefully, '...son down to vault 437.'

Gurnak nodded, 'this way, please,' and he led the two wizards through the hall. He opened a door and they stepped through. The marble vanished and was replaced by stone. The whole chamber was lit by torches held in brackets, and the light flickered eerily, casting shadows against the rough hewn walls. A cart clattered up to them, running on rails, and they all clambered in.

Remus had to grip onto the edge, tightly, as it shot off with break neck speed, rattling down canyons, and up hills, swerving round corners and jolting over bumps. He ducked his head to avoid a low hanging stalactite. As they shot around a corner, Remus caught sight of a blast of fire out of the corner of his eye. 'What was that, dad?' he asked.

'Dragon,' Lyall replied, matter of factly.

'Wow,' the young boy breathed to himself.

The cart screeched to a halt. 'Vault 437,' Gurnak said to them, and they all tumbled out. Lyall used the key to open the door, and then they went inside. The vault had been carved out of the stone, and was like a great, rugged cave. It could clearly hold a great deal of gold. But there was only a small pile of galleons, sickles and knuts inside. Lyall counted some out and put them inside a bag, 'I don't think we need all of them,' he muttered, 'need to save something for next year.'

And then it was back into the cart, and another exhilarating ride back up to ground level.

'So where first?' Remus asked as they left the bank. Even though it was a murky day, he still blinked in the sunlight after the deep gloom of the underground caverns. 'Potion supplies?' Lyall suggested, and they went off to the apothecary to buy beetles eyes and porcupine quills and crushed spine of lionfish. Inside the shop smelled terrible - like a combination of rotten eggs and cabbages, and there were slimy things in jars lining the walls. There was another family in there, looking at all the ingredients like they were rather bemused by the whole thing. One little girl, with large, pale eyes had her hand clamped firmly over her nose and mouth - and a look of utter revulsion on her face.

'It says I need beetle eyes, mum,' her sister - a little redheaded girl said, brandishing her Hogwarts list. Her mother went to look at the beetle eyes, '5 knuts a scoop?' she muttered, 'what does that mean in real money?'

The pale eyed girl peered into a barrel of dragon's spleens - and then backed away hastily, as the smell hit her. But she backed into the dangling display of severed bats wings - and screamed loudly, as the leathery appendages slapped her about the head. 'I'm going outside, mum,' she declared - and ran for the door. Once outside, she took several deep lungfuls of fresh air… and then watched all the witches and wizards pass by, a mixture of fear and longing playing on her face.

Lyall expertly selected the things Remus would need and then paid for them. As they left, the little girl and her mum were still wondering about the beetle eyes. 'It must be hard for the muggle borns,' Lyall commented, he smiled kindly at the pale eyed girl as they passed her. 'Their world is just so different from ours.'

From the apothecaries, they went on to the second hand bookstore, to pick up a copy of The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1 and A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. All the other books on the list were needed throughout all seven years at Hogwarts, and Lyall still had his copies. But beginner's magic books had long since been lost.

After the bookshop, they went to Scribbulus writing instruments, and bought Remus a couple of quills, a few bottles of ink and some reams of parchment. Then they went to the second hand robe store, and the saleswitch was able to find them three sets of plain work robes, which fit reasonably well and weren't too shabby. She also located a pointed hat, which he would have to grow into, and a winter cloak. The silver fastenings on this were a little scraped, and there was a patch sewn into it, where it had had to be repaired… but it would keep him warm. He also bought a pair of protective gloves, and then they were on their way.

'Is it my wand now, dad? Can I get my wand now?' Remus asked. Lyall checked the list. 'Yes, alright - wand it is… now there's only one place for that - Ollivander's.' He led his son further down the street until they came to a narrow and shabby shop, with peeling gold letters above the door. 'Is this it?' Remus asked, incredulously.

'Finest wands in the world - only place to go,' Lyall smiled and opened the door.

Inside it was cramped and dusty. There was a counter and, behind that, shelves upon shelves of boxes - thousands of them, piled right to the ceiling. There was a small, three legged stool and a sallow faced witch with a hooked nose already sat upon it. A small boy, with a very similar nose - and the same unhealthy pallor - stood beside her. She raised an eyebrow when she saw Lyall Lupin walk in. 'Lyall?' she said, 'I haven't seen you around since…. The unpleasantness with the Wizengamot.' Lyall smiled the same uncomfortable smile he had when Tom had also mentioned his absence from the wizarding world. 'Well, my wife is a muggle…' he tried to use the same excuse.

'My husband is also a muggle,' the witch replied, 'I see that as no reason to cut myself off from the wizarding world… that would be unfair on my son,' she indicated the boy stood next to her.

'First time at Hogwarts too?' Lyall asked, trying to sound jovial, 'Remus is about to start, we're very excited. You must have been very proud when you got the letter, Eileen.'

'I always knew what my son was,' she replied, coldly.

'Yes, well,' Lyall coughed uncomfortably, 'so did we… but still… Hogwarts…'

For all that Eileen seemed unimpressed, her son certainly looked very pleased with the prospect.

'Of course, now Dumbledore is the headmaster… things will be different,' the witch said, she sounded sour about it. She glanced at her son, 'was that the _Evans_ family I saw out in the street earlier? Their youngest has magic - I take it?' she shook her head, 'shouldn't be allowed. What do you think?' she turned back to Mr. Lupin.

'Dumbledore is a great man,' Lyall said to her, 'he has already helped out our family so much.' He smiled down at his son.

'Is that so?' Another sardonically raised eyebrow, 'tell me, Lyall - just what was the nature of that unpleasantness with the Wizengamot? I can't quite recall.' But Lyall was saved from answering by the arrival of Ollivander, bearing a stack of wands. 'Let's try these ones, let's try these ones,' he said, and then noticed Remus and Lyall. 'Lyall!' he sounded delighted , 'cherry and unicorn hair, eleven inches - swishy - good for charms.'

'That's right.'

'And this is your boy?' the wand maker turned his large grey eyes on Remus - and just like the Goblin's had - seemed to stare straight through him, 'well, dear me - dear me - most irregular.'

Eileen raised yet another eyebrow.

'Well, we'll see what the boy takes once I've sorted out this young man,' he nodded to the sallow, hook nosed boy stood by his mother. 'Try this one first, Larch and phoenix feather, 9 3/4 inches - durable - excellent for transfiguration, here give it a wave.' He handed the wand to the sallow boy, and they all watched as he waved it - nothing happened. 'Never mind never mind,' Ollivander said, 'we'll find the right fit - I've never failed yet - how about this one, Hawthorne and dragon heart-string 11 inches, rigid but powerful.' Again, the boy waved the wand and nothing happened, he looked a little downhearted about it. Ollivander on the other hand seemed to enjoy himself all the more, 'tricky customer, eh, good good. The wand chooses the wizard, young man - the wand chooses the wizard, the right one is here for you somewhere… now what about this… yes, elm and dragon heart-string. Of course there are those who claim that elm wands are for pure bloods only… but the truth is they simply prefer owners with a native dexterity. They make very few foolish errors do elm wands, and produce elegant and sophisticated magic. Eleven and ¼ inches, firm but springy - very good for hexes, give this a try.'

The whole boy's face had lit up, Remus could tell he liked the sound of this wand.. And the young werewolf held his breath, as the other boy tried it, hoping it would work out for him. The boy waved his arm and, as the wand travelled through the air, silver sparks flew out. Everyone applauded and the boy flushed with pleasure. 'Excellent, excellent,' Ollivander smiled. He sold the wand and turned to Remus… 'now what to do with you?'

Lyall sat down on the stool Eileen had just vacated, and Remus was pulled over to the window so Ollivander could scrutinise him in the light. 'Which is your wand arm?' the wand maker asked. Remus glanced at his dad, 'um - I'm right handed,' he said.

'Very good very good,' Ollivander nodded, still peering into him. A tape measure was measuring the young werewolf all by itself - across his chest, from shoulder to foot, the span of his arms, even the width between his nostrils. It was most disconcerting. 'You have the mark of suffering on you, boy,' Ollivander said to him, 'you have known pain - you carry it with you.'

Lyall cleared his throat, glad Eileen and her questions were no longer in the shop to hear this. 'He has been ill,' he told the wandmaker.

'For years now - with no hope of reprieve,' Ollivander nodded, sadly, 'a shame in one so young, but pain forges strength. Oh yes, to have borne this burden - at such a young age - and to still be standing. There is fight in the child, fire in his belly - but fear as well, fear that can drive him on - or hold him back. Yes, I think something very special is order for this young man, let me see, let me see.' He climbed a ladder and took down a long, thin box. 'Let's try this one, Holly and phoenix feather, an unusual combination. 11 inches - nice and supple.' Remus took hold of the wand, eagerly, but nothing happened - it just felt like dead wood in his hand - and like the boy before him, he struggled to hide his disappointment. 'Never mind never mind,' Ollivander said again, 'clearly this wand is destined for another - but that does not mean yours will not be equally special. Remember it is the wand who chooses the wizard and not the wizard who chooses the wand. It starts as an initial attraction - a recognition of a kindred spirit, and then it becomes a quest for mutual experience… here, try this Fir and dragon heart-string, good for transfiguration, 14 inches.' But again nothing happened.

'Hmmm,' mused Ollivander, 'for an unusual boy an unusual wood, perhaps?' He scuttled off to the back of his store. Remus gave his father an alarmed glance, 'do you think he knows?' he asked.

'If he does, he is not holding it against you. Ollivander is an unusual wizard, like Dumbledore, he is not subject to the prejudices of lesser minds.'

Ollivander returned then, smiling, 'here we go, here we go - try this on for size, 10 1/4 inches, cypress wood, unicorn hair - give it a wave.'

The moment Remus held the wand in his hand, he knew it was right. His right arm went all warm and tingly and, as he waved the wand, red sparks flew from the end of it. His father and Ollivander applauded, and Lyall had to take out a handkerchief and dab at his eyes. 'Is this it?' Remus asked, his eyes shining with delight, 'is this my wand?'

'You have been chosen, my boy,' Ollivander told him. Remus swelled with pride. 'And it's a good wand too - show's strength of character. Cypress wood - now they say those with wands of cypress show great nobility. My great great great great grandfather Geraint Ollivander wrote that it was always an honour to match a cypress wand - as he knew he was meeting a witch or wizard who would die a heroic death.' The old man caught sight of the boy's suddenly paled face, and smiled, 'of course - in these less blood thirsty times the possessors of a cypress wand are rarely called upon to lay down their lives. But nevertheless a cypress finds its soulmate along the brave, the bold and the self sacrificing. Paired with a unicorn hair… that's quite a wand you have there, my boy… and that's quite a boy you have there, Lyall.'

Lyall smiled, proudly, 'there's no need to tell _me_ that.'

They paid, and left the wand shop. Remus' face was creased into a frown. 'Do you really believe all that stuff about me being noble and bold?' he asked his father.

'I don't see why it wouldn't be true,' Lyall told him, 'I don't tell you this enough, but you are a remarkable boy. All you've been through - all you've suffered. I think you have learned great patience and tolerance and compassion. You've an old head on your shoulders, wise beyond your years. It makes me proud … and a little sad.'

'Why sad?'

'Because you've been robbed of a childhood,' his father told him, shortly, 'because you are the way you are because you have suffered too much too young.'

'Do you really think I'll die a heroic death?' the boy asked sceptically.

'I hope not,' Lyall smiled. 'I hope you die old and peaceful, warm in your bed. These are peaceful times, my boy… I doubt you'll ever get much of a chance to prove your bravery and nobility. It just won't be called upon.'

'Well I'm glad about that!' Remus declared, as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. 'I prefer the quiet life.' And they tied their packages onto their broom and then climbed on board, flying the long journey back to Hope and home.


	3. Chapter 3: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

_**Chapter 3: Aboard the Hogwarts Express**_

'I'm just going on my tea break, Jim.'

Jim stared at the pimply young stripling like he was crazed, he glanced at his watch and then back up at the lad. 'Are you mad, lad?' he asked, 'it's half past ten. _On the First of September._ '

The young man looked confused - he'd only started his porter's job at King's Cross station the week before. 'I always go for my tea break at half ten,' he told the other porter.

'No no no no no - not on the First of September!' Jim told him. The younger porter's face creased up in confusion, wondering if the 1st of September was the train world's equivalent of April 1st.

'We get the _weirdos_ on the 1st of September,' Jim told him. The boy looked unconvinced, but then the doors to the station were pushed open, and a small family walked onto the concourse. 'Look at em,' Jim muttered, nodding at the family. 'We get a ton of them, every year - First of September, right around half past ten - and then, come eleven o'clock - poof - they all just vanish.'

The younger porter looked at the family. Jim was right - they did look like weirdos. The woman was wearing a long black dress that hung right down to the floor and - more to the point - _so was the man!_ They had two young boys with them, and the eldest was pushing a luggage trolley. But it didn't have suitcases piled up on it… it had a large, old fashioned travelling trunk. And balanced on the top of that was a cage, with a live owl stuffed inside. The young man blinked. 'Where are they going, Jim?' he asked.

'No one knows,' the older man replied. 'They turn up, they disappear… never seen a one of them get on a train in my all years working here, but every year, like clockwork they turn up. Trunks, owls, cats, sweeping brooms… all sorts of oddness. And they all wear them trailing dresses. Some even have pointy hats.'

'Are they in fancy dress? Maybe they're going somewhere they have to dress up?'

'What? The weirdos convention 1971?' Jim shrugged, 'maybe they are - but this place is going to be swamped with them in a moment, getting underfoot of all the normal passengers - so don't even _think_ of going on break until after eleven.'

Sure enough - true to Jim's word - as the minute hand on the large station clock ticked ever nearer to eleven, the station became more and more crowded. They were all families - all had teenagers with them, and some had younger children, as well. Most of the adults were dressed in the most bizarre clothes - in the strangest colours, with the weirdest designs printed on them. The older children all had luggage with them - the same old fashioned trunks that the first boy had pushed. A lot of them had animals; cats yowled, owls hooted, a toad escaped from its owner - and the young porter had to help a round faced young man chase it down and capture it where it was lurking, in the corner of the gentlemen's toilets.

And Jim was right - an awful lot of the children clutched sweeping brooms like they were prized possessions. And the things they said! The conversations that he overheard, as the families passed by, were pure gibberish. Words that were not words at all being tossed around like nobody's business. 'Quidditch' and 'muggle' and 'divination.' Utter nonsense! What the heck was a 'Hufflepuff,' when it was at home?

There was noise and clamour and rush and bustle. Regular passengers tripped up over the cats and the brooms - and then came to lodge complaints with the increasingly overwhelmed staff. And just when the lad was ready to throw the towel in and walk out on his first ever job - _clang! -_ the minute hand hit eleven o'clock… and all the confusion and cacophony simply melted away. There were no more weirdos in sight. They had just... vanished.

The concourse settled down again, the 11:02 train to Edinburgh Waverley pulled out from platform 10, and everywhere was quiet. Bemused, and a little shook up, the young porter settled down at 11:05 for his long awaited tea break, thinking that maybe next year he would arrange to have his day off on the First of September.

...

Remus sat all alone in his compartment, as the train pulled out from platform 9¾. He had passed carriages full of older children settling in for a long journey, and excited first years spilling out of everywhere, trying out their new wands and generally making a lot of noise. They were asking a lot of questions of each other, as well - 'where are you from?', 'what house will you be in?', 'did you know you were magic?', 'is this the greatest day ever, or what?'

Having been so much alone for the past six years, Remus wasn't quite ready to join in with the melee of his fellow first timers. And he had too much to hide to be prepared to answer their questions. He was happy to be going to Hogwarts - excited too, and proud to be magic enough to go. And he was grateful to Dumbledore for everything that had been put in place to keep him safe. But he was also worried.

He was nervous about leaving home for the first time. His parents had been the only companionship he had had since he had been bitten… and he couldn't yet imagine life without them being right there whenever he needed them. And, although she tried to hide it, Remus could see that his mother wasn't well - and he worried about being away from her when _she_ might need _him_.

He was also worried he might not make any friends. He had never had friends before - he didn't know how you went about making them. He didn't know if, secluded as his life had been, whether he would be interesting enough for people to want to talk to. And he didn't know if he would fit in - what if all those years alone had made him _odd_?

And, of course, he was coming to school for the first time in second hand robes and a patched cloak. His books were tatty and used. He didn't have an owl - or even a cat - of his own. It was a relief that first years were not allowed racing brooms, because, of course, he would not have been able to bring one - and that would only be another thing that marked him out as different. The other children might look down on him for being poor, might sneer at the shabbiness of his robes and at his battered possessions. But at least they couldn't laugh at him for not having a decent broom.

Then - on top of all that - the cherry, on the icing, on the cake - was his secret. Above all his other worries, he was afraid that the other children would uncover the truth about his condition. And then that would be the end of his chance of being a fully qualified wizard. The children would shun him - and tell their parents. Their parents would write to Dumbledore - if not to the Minister for Magic - saying in no uncertain terms that they would not tolerate their children being schooled alongside a _werewolf._ And then, with great regret, Dumbledore would have to ask Remus to leave. That would be for his own safety - as well - his fellow pupils might be inclined to do some very nasty things to him to scare him away from the school.

He wanted to make friends, desperately wanted people his own age he could share things with. He had ached with loneliness, sometimes, over the years in hiding. But it was with a very heavy heart that he was forced to admit that any friendships he did forge would have to be based on deception. And that anyone who seemed to like him for himself would change their mind, quicksticks, if they ever discovered the truth. A part of him thought that maybe his mother had been right - perhaps he would have been better joining the muggle world, after all.

As the train jolted and rattled along, he closed his eyes and began to doze off. He hadn't slept much the night before - too excited, and too afraid, to get much rest. He had sat up late, that night, with his parents - in front of the fire - pretending he couldn't hear Hope's cough, and listening to his father tell them both about Hogwarts.

It sounded wonderful - secret passages, suits of armour, staircases that moved, ghosts, mountains and a forest filled with dangerous creatures. It was like something from one of the fairy tales his mother used to read him, and Remus had had to pinch himself to remind himself that it was all true - he was really going! But then his mother had had a particularly nasty bout of coughing, and her face had gone pale - and she had wheezed when she breathed… and suddenly Remus hadn't wanted to leave her, again.

She had insisted she was fine, however, and made him go off to bed - where he had lain awake half the night, staring at the ceiling and counting down the hours. Then they had to get up very early to get to the train station in time. Their home was on the Welsh border - and it would be many hours journey to reach London. Unlike their trip to Diagon Alley, they would have to go in the car - as Hope was not willing to wave her only child off from home, when she would not see him again until Christmas. His mother wanted to see him onto the train, and wave him off at the last minute. So they had all climbed into their battered Morris Minor and taken the road.

Lyall had helped his wife through the hidden barrier onto the wizarding platform, sending Remus ahead with his trunk. Then they had helped their son onto the train with his luggage, found him a compartment - given him a last hug and a kiss - and then got back off the train. As the scarlet steam engine had pulled out of the station, Remus had hung out of the window, waving to the couple huddled on the platform as they got smaller and smaller. He kept waving until the train went round a corner, and they disappeared from view altogether. Then he had sat all by himself - thinking - until tiredness caused him to close his eyes. The next full moon was less than a week away, and he could already feel the effects of it- sapping his energy and making him ache. It was a great relief to allow himself to drift into sleep - letting the rumble and rattle of the train lull him into somnolence.

He was interrupted from his much needed nap, however, by the compartment door opening, all of a sudden. A boy and a girl stood in the doorway, and they pulled up short when they saw Remus in there, sleeping. He opened his eyes and looked at them. He recognised them both - the red headed girl and the sallow faced boy from Diagon Alley.

'Do you mind if we come and sit in here?' the girl asked him, 'only there were the most awful boys in our compartment - we had to move, didn't we Sev?'

The sallow faced boy nodded, though he didn't look especially pleased to be joining Remus. Nevertheless, the young werewolf said there was plenty of space and they were welcome to sit with him. The little girl came and sat down opposite him, and smiled widely. After a moment, the boy followed her and sat down next to her. He did not smile.

'I'm Lily,' the girl told him, 'Lily Evans - this is Sev… Severus. We know each other from home.'

'I'm Remus,' Remus told her, 'I don't know anybody.'

'Are you the first person in your family to come to Hogwarts?' the girl asked him, 'I am… none of my family are magic. It was Sev that told me I was a witch, I always knew I could do odd stuff, but I didn't realise it was magic.' She frowned a little, 'I'm a bit worried I'm going to be bottom of all our classes- I don't know anything about _anything_ , you see.'

'Lily's got loads of magic,' Severus said, suddenly. It was the first words he had spoken in front of Remus - and he snapped them out, as if he was angry about something. 'Even if her family _are_ only muggles - she's good enough to go to Hogwarts.'

Remus' forehead creased into a frown - he had caught Severus's use of the word 'only' and he didn't like it. 'My mum's a muggle,' he said to Lily, 'she wanted me to go to a normal school. But my dad's a wizard, and he and Dumbledore thought I'd be better off at Hogwarts - so here I am.'

'Does your mum not like magic, then?'

The werewolf scrunched up his face, as he thought how to answer this question, carefully. 'She didn't mind it at first,' he told the girl, 'my parents met when my mum got attacked by a boggart and my dad rescued her. She's quite an unusual muggle, you see - most non- magic people can't see boggarts, but my mum can. She's more sensitive than most people, I think - and very imaginative. But… I think she's learned to be wary of it, she's seen the way wizards can treat people who are … different. Not that muggles don't treat people badly sometimes, too. Bad people are bad people - magic doesn't change that. But muggles have a lot less power than wizards. I think magic scares her a bit, now.'

Lily nodded thoughtfully - the harsh words of her sister were still ringing in her ears. Magic was something to be afraid of for those who didn't have it - couldn't protect themselves from it. But Severus wasn't looking thoughtful, he was looking calculating. He had narrowed his eyes at Remus, and was scrutinising him. 'You were at Ollivander's,' he said, changing the subject.

'Yes, I got my wand at the same time as you.'

'My mum said your dad doesn't live as part of the magical community anymore,' Severus said, 'she said something happened with the Wizengamot a few years ago … he got into trouble and then just disappeared.'

'That was years ago,' Remus tried to deflect.

'What happened?'

'I don't know the details, I was only five …' he turned back to Lily, 'what kind of wand did you get?'

'Will..' she began to say.

'What wand chose you in the end?' Severus interrupted her, looking at Remus with a challenge in his eyes, 'I got my elm wand - they choose those with pure blood.'

'Mine's Cypress,' he turned back to Lily, 'what's yours?'

'What did Ollivander say Cypress wood meant?' Severus interrupted again. Remus frowned. He wasn't sure he liked this boy - at all. He asked too many questions, and not in a friendly way. In a way that suggested he knew Remus had something to hide. And he seemed determined to stop the other boy from talking to Lily. Every time Lily spoke to Remus, Severus' face would twist into an expression of suppressed anger and jealousy. And whenever she turned back to him, he would visibly relax - and smile - and act all nice again. There seemed, to Remus, like there were two very definite sides to Severus. And the nice side seemed reserved only for Lily Evans. He didn't know that he could keep up a conversation with someone so hostile, and so determined to keep the girl all to himself, for the entire journey - and so was greatly relieved when the door opened, and a witch pushing a snack trolley popped her head round to see if anybody wanted anything.

Remus shook his head - he had been sent on the train with sandwiches, as his family couldn't afford for him to buy expensive train snacks. Lily looked at the trolley in confusion, having never seen anything like the food that was on offer, before. She bought herself a pumpkin pasty and a cauldron cake, and a glass of pumpkin juice. Her face screwed up as she drank it. 'I've never had pumpkin before,' she said, 'is it... uh… is it a big thing in the wizarding world?'

Severus assured her it was, and she looked downcast. Remus ate his sandwiches in silence and, when he was done, took out his copy of _A History of Magic_ to read, so he could avoid talking to Severus any more.

It was not meant to be. 'That's a very battered book,' Severus said to him. He lowered it, and glanced at the ratty and torn cover, 'it was my dad's,' he admitted. The other boy nodded, 'I've got my mum's old potions book,' he said, 'you would think they would update the book list occasionally… but obviously Dumbledore isn't interested in us getting the best quality education. My mum says his becoming headmaster is the worst thing that could have happened to Hogwarts… he'll let all sorts in.'

'All sorts of what?' Remus asked, very glad that this boy did not know his secret. Severus opened his mouth to answer, but then glanced at Lily, blushed bright red and muttered 'nothing.'

The werewolf nodded to himself, so Severus suffered from the pure blood mania that was so rife in the wizarding world, that his own father was so scornful of. Although, Remus was pretty sure that the other boy's mother had said her husband was a muggle, so it was pure hypocrisy. And then there was the internal struggle the boy seemed to be having over his friendship with Lily - and his disdain for her family. His mother was right to be wary of the magical community, there were some very strange ideas around, indeed.

He lifted his book up, so his face was hidden once more, and signalled that way that he no longer wished to talk. He glanced over the top of his page, occasionally, though; and noticed Severus sometimes glancing at him. The boy seemed very happy to not have to share Lily, but at the same time - he still seemed very curious about Remus.

As the scarlet steam engine snaked its way through the countryside, the landscape outside the windows seemed to get wilder and more rugged. They had passed the border into Scotland some hours ago, and were now reaching the lower edges of the Highlands. As they travelled further north, the night drew in, and the lamps in the carriages were lit. 'We must be nearly there by now,' Severus said, straining his eyes to look out of the window, 'you should change into your robes, Lily.' Severus, himself, had been wearing his school robes since before they had left London.

Lily glanced between the two boys, and blushed a little. She opened up her trunk and pulled out her school robes - and then just looked at them, as if not quite sure what to do next. Remus copied her, getting his own robes out. He pulled them on over his head, over his muggle jeans and jumper. And with a look of relief, Lily did likewise.

It was quite hot, wearing an entire set of clothing underneath his school robes, but it wasn't only modesty of getting changed in front of a girl that had made Remus unwilling to strip off and get changed properly. His T-shirt was covering the scars from his bite marks. Cursed wounds never healed properly - and his scars were still vivid, and noticeable. They were gnarly, and bumpy, and purple - and there was a definite pattern to them that a close observer might be able to discern were teeth marks. There was no way he was going to expose his scars to Severus - he had only known him a few hours and he had already asked too many questions.

The train started to slow down, and then a voice echoed throughout the corridors. 'We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.'

Lily and Severus exchanged an excited look. Remus put his book back into his trunk and sure enough, five minutes later, they came grinding to a halt. Leaving his luggage behind, as instructed, Remus opened the compartment door and joined the throng of students leaving the train. He was not too disappointed to find that he had got separated from Lily and Severus.

As he stepped onto the platform, a voice boomed out 'firs'- years, firs' - years over here! C'mon, follow me. Any more firs' years?' The voice belonged to simply the most enormous man Remus had ever seen. He was at least twice as tall as normal, and about five times as wide. He had a massive tangle of bushy hair, and a thick beard. But, alarming as his appearance was, he was smiling as he called the first year students over to himself. He seemed quite benign for a giant, and Remus supposed he had no right to be surprised - he was, himself, quite benign for a werewolf.

'This way, this way, c'mon now - all firs'- years, this way,' the giant boomed, and the huddle of youngest students all filed after him, following him down a steep and muddy path. It was so dark on either side, that Remus assumed there must be thick trees growing alongside, blocking out the light. In front of him, two boys slipped and slid through the mud, tripping each other up and then laughing loudly.

'Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec,' the giant called over his shoulder, 'just round this bend, here.'

A sudden 'oooh' ran through the crowd of first years, and their line came to a stop, as they all stood and stared at their new home. The path had ended on the edge of a great, black lake and - across the lake, perched on top of a mountain - was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. The windows were brightly lit, warm and inviting looking, and they stood out against the inky black of the sky. 'Look at that full moon,' one of the boys in front of Remus hissed. With a heavy heart, Remus looked skyward, following the direction the boy was pointing in. The great silver disc hung over the tallest tower of the castle, slightly obscured by cloud.

It was very dramatic looking - the big harvest moon, and the silhouette of the ancient, sprawling school. But to Remus, the moon winked down at him like a malevolent eye. The other boy wrinkled his nose, 'are you sure that's full?' he asked. 'Isn't it just gibbous?'

'You're gibbous,' his friend replied.

'Yeah? _You're_ a gibb _on_.'

They both laughed.

Behind them, the werewolf didn't say anything. But he could tell them, well enough, that it wasn't full. In fact, he could tell them that it was precisely four nights away from being full. If that moon was full - then these boys - all these people, even the giant, would be in a whole world of danger. As it was, the greatest threat to their safety simply felt tired and achey. Twinges of pain ran through his bones, as they prepared to break and reform in the transformation in a few nights time. He sighed to himself - and then squinted. There was something moving on the water.

'No more'n four to a boat,' the giant called out, pointing to a fleet of small boats that came sailing up the lake all by themselves. Remus got into a boat with the two boys ahead of him, and once all the students were on board, the giant shouted 'forward' and all the boats sailed off together, this time headed for the school.

It was cold, out on the lake, the wind whipped around them and the boat rocked perilously. Although Remus thought a big part of that might be his two companions, who were shoving each other, and splashing each other and rocking their little vessel. A great tidal wave of water hit the werewolf in the face, as the one with glasses tried to splash the good looking one - and missed. Both boys guffawed. Remus sighed, and looked forward to the end of the boat ride, when he could take his leave of the two of them, and hopefully not have to deal with them again.

Everyone else stared up at the school in silence. The sound of the two pranksters was the only noise floating across the eerie, still lake. 'Head's down,' roared the giant, and everyone ducked, as they sailed under a curtain of ivy, which was hiding a wide opening in the cliff face. They sailed down a long, dark tunnel, which seemed to take them right underneath the castle. Eventually they reached a kind of underground harbour, and they disembarked out onto a beach of rocks and pebbles.

Then the giant led them through a passageway in the rock, itself. They all followed the light of his lamp until they came out onto the mountainside, standing on the grass under the shadow of the castle. Once they were all out in the open, the giant raised his fist and knocked three times on the massive oak doors...


	4. Chapter 4: The Sorting Ceremony

_**Chapter Four: The Sorting Ceremony**_

The doors to the castle swung inwards, and the group of nervous first years were met by a tall, and stern looking witch. She led them through the entrance hall, and there was a collective gasp; as the students took in the grand staircase, the four crystal hourglasses with jewels stored in the top, and the high, vaulted ceilings. Portraits lined the walls - and the inhabitants of the frames peered down at them, some scuttling along to the next picture to get a better look - or to discuss the new arrivals with a friend.

The stern witch opened a door, and took them all into a chamber just off the hallway. Once they were crowded in she addressed them all. She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, and explained the house system - and the way they would all soon be sorted into their new Hogwarts family. Then she excused herself and went to check on the progress of the rest of the school.

Remus glanced around at the other children. The idiot with the glasses from his boat was practically glowing with confidence - and the werewolf assumed he must know in to which house he was headed. His friend - the impossibly handsome little boy - seemed far less certain of himself. Looking further around, he spotted Severus and Lily in the back. Lily looked excited - but she was muggleborn, and Remus figured she would have no idea where she belonged - she was just happy to be here. Like scruffy hair and glasses, though, Severus was looking confident - but in a much quieter way. The young werewolf wondered where these boys thought they were going - and if they would be happy with the outcome.

For himself - he hadn't the first clue.

The door opened, once more, and Professor McGonagall reentered the chamber. 'The school is ready for you all now,' she told them, 'please follow me.'

The door she took them through, this time, led them straight into the great hall of the school itself. Again, there was a collective gasp, as the first years looked around, and took in the four house tables, the long staff table, the floating candlesticks and the ceiling - enchanted to look like the night sky outside. Remus felt the baleful eye of the gibbous moon follow him down the aisle.

The students reached the front of the hall, and all lined up facing the rest of the school. All the older pupils stared back at them. Remus felt his mouth go dry. Then, Professor McGonagall silently placed a four legged stool down in front of the line of newcomers. On top of that, she placed a very patched, and frayed and dirty hat. Now all eyes in the hall seemed to fall on the hat. Remus eyed it, as well - and then, a seam around the brim of the hat opened itself up, like a mouth - and the hat began to sing!

 _Oh once upon a time gone by_

 _I lived upon the head_

 _Of one whose deeds shall never die_

 _But long since now is dead._

 _This wizard and his best friends three_

 _Believed a simple rule_

 _That magic should be taught for free_

 _And so began this school._

 _And so they passed along their learning_

 _Regardless of the cost_

 _So desperate was their yearning_

 _Magic arts be never lost._

 _In their own time, each did choose_

 _The ones they liked the best_

 _And each amongst them could refuse_

 _Them that didn't pass their test._

 _My owner, he was Gryffindor_

 _Lover of the bold and wild_

 _He would listen for the lion's roar_

 _In the heart of every child._

 _His friend was Helga Hufflepuff_

 _Sweet and kind and humble_

 _For her it was always enough_

 _Your loyalty not crumble_

 _And then came clever Ravenclaw_

 _Famed for her wit and learning_

 _For her you could be never poor_

 _If your love of books was burning._

 _And finally came old Slytherin_

 _The shrewd, the sly and proud_

 _He looked amongst your kith and kin_

 _Just the purest were allowed._

 _And whilst they lived here at the school_

 _This system it worked well_

 _They sat you here upon this stool_

 _And your character would tell._

 _But what when they were dead and gone?_

 _How could they pupils sort?_

 _To make sure all their students shone?_

 _My master had a thought:_

 _He whipped me off his noble brow_

 _And gave me speech and mind_

 _And so I do their job for now_

 _And sort you all in kind._

 _So put me on and let me see_

 _What lives within your soul_

 _One quick glance is all I need_

 _To help you find your goal!_

As the hat finished its song, the whole hall burst into applause. And then Professor McGonagall stepped forward, holding a long scroll of parchment, and read off the first name: Avery, Gaius. An undernourished, weasel faced boy stepped forward and sat down on the stool. He put the hat on - and a moment later the seam mouth opened wide and screamed ' _Slytherin!'_ The table second to the right exploded into thunderous applause and catcalls. And, looking rather pleased with himself, Avery slunk away from the first years and went to join them.

'Bagshot, Bettina,' was called up next - and she became a Ravenclaw, this time it was the table second from the left that broke out in cheers.

'Bibbins, Theo' joined her, and then 'Bidwell, Constance' became the first new Hufflepuff to be sorted. The next person called was the good looking idiot from Remus' boat. 'Black, Sirius,' the professor called out - and the young boy went and perched nervously on the stool.

'No prizes for guessing where this one is going,' Remus heard a voice behind him say. He turned his head slightly, and saw one of the teachers - an enormously fat, bald man with a glistening walrus moustache lean in and talk to the headmaster, 'what do you say, Dumbledore - eh? 10 Galleons says another Black for my collection. This is Andromeda's last year - I need a replacement.'

'I never bet on the placement of students, Horace,' Dumbledore replied. His smile was genial, but Remus got the impression that it was hiding annoyance. 'A young person's destiny is their own affair. Young Black is not his family. He will go where he is suited.'

' _Tojours pur,'_ the bald professor answered him, 'the Black family motto - we all know where the boy is suited.'

But down on the stool, things were not progressing as quickly as they had done for the other students. The hat seemed to be taking it's time with the sorting of this particular boy. Looking back out into the hall, Remus noticed the way the Slytherin table were all leaning forward expectantly. There was absolute quiet in the hall for several long moments and then - finally - ' _Gryffindor'_ roared the hat.

Whereas all other sortings had been met by rapturous applause - this one was met with thunderous silence. Even the teachers along the staff table were all staring at each other in alarm. The Slytherin table looked like they'd just had cold water thrown over them - and the Gryffindors looked equally shocked. Sirius looked embarrassed - and like he was only a moment away from crying, as all eyes remained locked on him.

And then, from the line of first years, the idiot with scruffy hair and glasses began to clap. Dumbledore followed his lead, and then it was like the Gryffindors had come back to their senses - remembered what was going on - and they too began to applaud and holler. Flushed bright crimson, Sirius relinquished the hat and went to go and join them on the far left of the hall.

'Well, I quite wish I'd taken you up on that bet, now, Horace,' Remus heard Dumbledore chortle, 'I could always do with the extra money.' The big, fat teacher was looking most put out. ''Pon my word,' he huffed, 'this is most irregular - I've had them all. What will Walburga say?'

'I would like to think that she will be proud her son is finding his own place in the world,' the headmaster replied. But Horace did not look convinced.

After Sirius had taken his seat, and the hall had settled down, McGonagall read out the next name. One by one the first years were sorted - and the line began to dwindle. Evans, Lily was sent to Gryffindor - and Remus watched the girl from the train give her friend a swift, regretful smile before she left the line and went to her new house table. Peering along the children left, the young werewolf caught sight of Severus' expression, as the girl left him behind. He looked crushed - and once again, Remus wondered which house Severus was so sure he would be joining.

With a jolt in his tummy, he realised that the stern faced witch was now calling out the Ls. 'Lancaster, Charlie,' became a Hufflepuff. 'Lawson, Megan,' was a Ravenclaw and then Linehan, Petra was called to the stool. The young werewolf held his breath - thinking that there could not be many more children before it was his turn. In fact - he might be next - and then what would happen? With another jolt to his tummy, it suddenly occurred to him that the hat might _know_ about him. It must be sentient after all - it looked inside the children and then decided where to put them based on what it found there. It would surely see the wolf - and then what might it do?

Sure enough - as Petra went to join the Gryffindors - Remus heard his own name called out. 'Lupin, Remus.' He shuffled forward, feeling every eye in the hall on him. In his peripheral vision, he was sure he saw Dumbledore suddenly lean forward - as if taking a keen interest. Jamming the hat on his head, he was relieved when the soft folds of fabric fell over his eyes, blanking out the hall and leaving him with a feeling of being completely alone.

' _My my my - this is interesting,'_ a voice buzzed in his ear. Remus jumped, and fought to keep himself on the stool - he heard the other students, hidden from view - chuckle. ' _Now don't worry, my boy,'_ the hat said to him, ' _they can't hear me… this is all inside your head… though I can see why you're worried. So it's you … is it? Yes, I heard that you were coming - inside Dumbledore's office, I heard them planning for your arrival. Well, let's see now … besides the secret, what is there rattling around inside that brain of yours? What is the character of your soul?'_ Remus couldn't think of an answer to that, so he stayed completely still - trying to keep his mind blank and calm. ' _There's control, there, a lot of control,' t_ he hat mused, ' _I suppose there would have to be and you are afraid boy - terribly afraid… and yet here you are. I could shout out your innermost secret, the darkest truth, to this hall full of people and then what would you do?'_

'Please don't do that,' Remus thought back to the hat, 'please don't tell them - I just want to go to school, to have friends…'

' _Yes - and for you, even that modest ambition is a great risk. But a risk you are taking. And so polite in the face of exposure. If they know what you are, they would cast you out, you know that?'_

'Yes.'

' _You could have stayed safe at home - your parents love you, they protect you - and yet here you are. Are you frightened to be here?'_

'Yes,' Remus admitted.

' _Truthful too. Well - no one here is taking the chance that you are - no one here has lived through the suffering you have. So much pain - so young - and yet here you sit; polite and truthful and just wanting to go to school.'_

'I just want to be normal,' Remus thought.

' _But you're not normal,'_ the hat countered, ' _and I don't mean the wolf. To have been through everything you have - to still be standing. There is iron in you, boy. But there is weakness, too - oh yes - that fear can be your downfall. You need all the help you can get to master it, to keep fighting - even when it seems there is nothing left to fight for. There is only one place you can get the fire in your belly that you're going to need - better make it GRYFFINDOR,'_ the hat yelled out, so the rest of the hall could hear. The table on the far left burst out clapping, cheering and pounding the tables - and, much relieved, Remus went to join his new family.

He slid onto the bench, next to Lily - and watched the end of the sorting - enjoying it much more now that he was done. The idiot with the glasses turned out to be 'Potter, James,' and he was sorted into Gryffindor almost as soon as the hat touched his head. Remus clapped, politely, along with his fellow first years, but his heart sank a little at the prospect of sharing a dormitory for seven years with the two boys who had proved unbearable during a ten minute boat ride. There was at least another boy in with them, though. 'Pettigrew, Peter,' had been sorted shortly before James. Maybe he would prove more tolerable, the werewolf hoped.

Right towards the end, 'Snape, Severus,' was called up. Beside him, Lily gasped and then seemed to hold her breath. But, just as with Potter, the hat had barely touched his head before it declared him a ' _Slytherin'._ Lily let out a little sigh, and Remus turned to smile at her, commiserating. 'I'm sure you'll still see him loads,' he told her, 'in lessons and at break time.'

'Yeah - I guess so,' but she still looked sad.

Snape, on the other hand, was looking supremely triumphant. He strode over to the table second on the right, and slid onto the bench looking very pleased with himself. A tall, white haired boy, wearing a prefects badge, patted him on the shoulder in congratulations.

'Thomas, Mandy,' became another Gryffindor. 'Wilson, Christopher,' was the final Ravenclaw and then last of all 'Zabini, Leticia,' was sorted into Slytherin.

As the little girl took her seat, the hall fell quiet again - and then Dumbledore got to his feet. 'Welcome, welcome,' he said, spreading his arms out to encompass the whole hall, 'to our newest students- welcome to your new home - may your time here be joyous, if not educational,' the students tittered. 'And to all the old faces that look back at me, I bid you welcome back, welcome _home_. On this first evening together - and before we are all befuddled by our most excellent feast - I feel I should say a few words to mark the occasion. Wiser minds than mine have said dafter things than I - so I will simply remind you of the wisdom of our own school motto and bid that you endeavour to keep it, no matter how great the temptation may be: _Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus._ Thank you.' He sat back down, everyone clapped one last time - and then, as if from nowhere the feast appeared on the tables.

There was all sorts of the most delicious looking food; roast beef and joints of pork, lamb chops, cooked hams and Shepherd's Pie, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes, chips, Yorkshire puddings, parsnips, carrots and oceans of gravy. For Remus - who had never gone hungry, but for whom food had been something carefully budgeted for and never allowed to go to waste - it was like living in a waking dream. He scooped some of everything onto his plate, drowned it in the gravy, and then closed his eyes to take his first bite.

'I didn't think food would be like this at a _boarding_ school,' Lily said next to him, tucking into roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, 'this is nothing like the school dinners we had back home!'

'Mmmphh mpph's - good.' Remus managed to answer back. She obviously didn't understand a word, but she laughed good naturedly.

'What I don't understand,' James said, swallowing a forkful of Shepherd's Pie, 'is the mint humbugs. What are they doing here?'

'They've only started putting those out on the tables since Dumbledore became head,' a prefect informed the new students. 'He's absolutely crazy about muggle sweets.'

'But - shouldn't they come out with the puddings?' Remus asked. The prefect raised her eyebrows, ' _crazy_ ,' she reiterated.

As the plates cleared, the remains of the food and the dirty crockery vanished, and were replaced by a similarly delicious looking smorgasbord of desserts. 'Blimey,' James muttered, 'If I'd known, I'd have skipped the vegetables.'

Peter Pettigrew pulled two bowls of trifle towards himself, and began to eat his way through them, steadily. James and Lily both reached for the treacle tart at the same time. There was a slight tussle, and then Lily won - and dragged the tart over to her own plate.

'Did you just lose a fight, mate?' Sirius asked, laughing.

'I was being chivalrous,' James blushed, 'I'm a Gryffindor, now.'

'Yeah, right!'

'Treacle tart?' Lily had cut herself a slice and now offered it back to James. He took it from her, still blushing. 'I was being chivalrous,' he repeated. She just smiled, serenely. He chowed down on his slice of tart, glowering, until he thought of a change of subject. 'So, Sirius - what was with your sorting? It was like somebody _died_ when you got put in here.'

'Somebody _will_ die,' Sirius groaned, 'and that somebody will be _me_ when my mother finds out. In fact, I wouldn't have put it past my cousin Narcissa to have snuck out of the hall and sent her an owl straight away. I'll have a howler waiting for me at the breakfast table.'

'Surely it can't be that bad?' James asked, 'you can't be the first Gryffindor in an ancient wizarding family.'

'I'm not only just the first _Gryffindor,'_ Sirius told him, 'I'm the first non- Slytherin. Or at least - if there are any before me, they don't admit to them. We've got a family tree up in our drawing room - mum blasts people's names off if they do something to displease her. She's been threatening to blast mine since I was five … this ought to do it.' He looked gloomy.

'What about you?' James had turned to Remus, now. The young werewolf swallowed his mouthful of jam sponge quickly, 'Oh - um - my dad was a Gryffindor, so I suppose he'll be pleased. My mum isn't magic.'

'No,' the other boy clarified, 'I meant what happened during your sorting - it took ages... Were you a hat stall?'

'What's a hat stall?' Lily asked, looking up from her treacle tart, 'I mean, apart from a place that sells hats.'

'Muggle born?' James asked her - though he didn't say it unkindly. She nodded. 'A hat stall is when the sorting hat can't decide between two houses,' the boy said, 'they're quite rare - most people are one or the other.'

'So what happens when the hat can't decide?' she asked him, her eyes wide. It had known where to place her almost immediately. But the boy shrugged, 'I dunno - ip dip dip? Or maybe it lets the student decide…' he turned back to Remus, 'so is that what happened to you, where else was it gonna put you?'

'Um… it didn't really suggest any options,' Remus admitted, thinking very carefully about what to say so as not to reveal anything. 'It just ...um … chatted to me … a bit.'

'What about?'

'Stuff.'

'What stuff?'

'Just .. _personal_ stuff… things in my head. It's private.'

Sirius and James gave each other a surprised look. 'OK, then - sorry I asked,' James said to him, and the two boys turned away from him and started talking amongst themselves.

'The hat wasn't sure where to put me,' the final boy - Peter - suddenly piped up, after finishing his last mouthful of trifle. All first year eyes fell on him, then. 'But it decided Gryffindor would help me reach my best potential.'

'Yeah?' James was looking interested, again, 'what was the other house?' he laughed, 'not that it matters - as long as it wasn't stinking Slytherin!' Sirius joined in with the laughter and Peter flushed. 'Uh - no … it was… was … Hufflepuff.' He went quiet and helped himself to another bowl of trifle. But Remus got the distinct impression that the smaller boy was lying - and that the hat had seriously considered placing him in Slytherin.

Once the last crumbs of tart had been eaten, and the last scrapings of trifle licked from the bowls; the dirty plates vanished once more. Dumbledore got to his feet again - and a hush fell over the whole hall. 'Excellent, excellent - as always it is delightful to see you all back - and now we are fed and watered - it is time to climb up the wooden hill to bedfordshire. However - before we seek our peaceful rest in the arms of Morpheus - a few quick announcements courtesy of Mr. Filch.

'Firstly, he would like to inform our new students that it is forbidden to enter the Forbidden Forest under any circumstances,' he broke off and chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling behind their spectacles, 'the clue is rather in the name, there! He would also like to remind _all_ students that magic in the corridors is forbidden - and that due to the unfortunate incident with the ever bashing boomerang, the priceless vase and poor Mrs. Worthing, last term - those items are no longer allowed in school. He has recently acquired a new kitten - Mrs. Norris - whom he will be training up to be his assistant, as once the trusty Mrs. Worthing was - and I _trust_ she will not meet a similar sticky end.

'Finally, those of you who have been with us a while may notice that we have a new tree in the grounds. We are very fortunate to have donated to us, by our wizarding partner school in Brazil - a Whomping Willow. It is a most fascinating piece of arborea, and I am sure that Professors Frond and Sprout will be only too delighted to tell you all about it during your Herbology lessons. However; I must caution, for your own safety, that you stay away from it. A Whomping Willow in full swing is … truly something to behold - and I do not wish for there to be any unnecessary injuries. And I do believe that is all, so now - to sleep - perchance to dream. Goodnight.'

With a deafening scraping sound, the benches were pushed back and the student body, en masse, got to its feet. The brand new Gryffindors followed the prefect out of the hall, up the main staircase and then down several passageways until they arrived in a corridor that was dominated by a portrait of a fat lady, wearing a pink dress. 'Password?' she asked, looking down at them all.

'Listen carefully,' the prefect said to the new students, 'the password for the common room is ' _aconite'_.' As she said the last word, the portrait of the fat lady swung forward, revealing a round hole in the wall. They all stumbled through - and found themselves inside a circular tower room. There was a fire burning cheerfully in the grate, and there were lots of comfortable looking, squashy armchairs dotted around the room. 'This is the common room,' the prefect told them, 'this is where we Gryffindors spend our free time. Your dormitories are at the top of the tower this year - girls up there,' she pointed to one staircase, 'boys up there,' she pointed to another. Then she disappeared off up the girls staircase, and Lily and the others followed her.

'Beat you to the top,' James said, and he shoved Sirius and began to run up the stairs, headed to the boys' dorms. Sirius chased after him, catching him and bringing him down. But, as he tried to climb over him and run past, James grabbed his ankle and tripped him as well. They both tumbled back down into the common room, giggling. Remus sighed. They were just as unbearable as they had been in the boat.

He walked past them, and gained the top of the staircase. There was a large oak door with a brass plaque that read 'first year boys' on it. He pushed it open and went inside. Four large, four poster beds with scarlet drapes stood in the room. The trunks they had left on the train were already inside, one at the end of each bed. Remus found his own, pulled out his pajamas, and got onto the bed. He yanked the drapes closed to hide himself whilst he changed.

He heard the door open again, and James and Sirius walk in. 'Wow - Mr. Friendly really does like his privacy - doesn't he?' he heard James say. Remus sighed, again. He didn't like his privacy - he needed it - he couldn't let these boys see his scars.

Once all four were changed, Sirius switched the light out, 'night James,' he said. 'Night, Sirius,' James replied. 'Night, Peter,' they both chorused… and then went quiet.

After a little while, a small voice said, 'night, Remus.'

'Good night, Peter,' the young werewolf said.


	5. Chapter 5: The First Week

_**Chapter Five: The First Week**_

The very next morning, Remus began to discover just how very complicated life at a wizarding boarding school could be. The first year boys were awoken by the sound of the older students getting up and, after dressing hurriedly, were able to follow their fellow Gryffindors back down to the great hall.

This was something of a relief - because the young werewolf found himself walking along corridors and going down staircases that he had no recollection of from the previous evening. There were twists and turns, and hallways concealed by tapestries; and Remus was quite sure that, had he been forced to make this journey alone, he would have remained lost inside the castle, forever.

And it was more than just the sheer size of Hogwarts that was confusing. Everything about the castle seemed designed especially to trick and bamboozle an unwitting student. Take the staircases for example. There were a hundred and forty two staircases in total. Some were grand and sweeping, some were narrow and rickety, some wound up inside the towers in magnificent spirals that left you dizzy. And one was a wooden ladder that led up to highest part in the owlery.

But then there were also staircases which had vanishing steps halfway up. You had to remember to jump it - or else your leg would get stuck inside and you would have to wait for someone to come along and haul you out. And then there were the staircases that moved. Some did so ostentatiously - swinging across the castle and then coming to rest on a different landing. It was tiresome if you were on the stairs at the time - but at least you had an idea of where you needed to head back to. Others, however, simply led somewhere else on a Friday. Up the stairs you would bound, bursting through the first door on the left, confidently expecting to find the boys bathroom that had been there all week only to find - boom - the Charms classroom, filled with giggling NEWT students.

And the rest of the fixtures and fittings seemed desperate to get in on the act, too. The doors were a particularly ornery bunch; only opening if you asked politely, or tickled them in the right spot, or tapped a secret code onto them with your magic wand. Plus a couple of doors weren't doors at all - just solid walls pretending. The people in the portraits moved around too - flitting from picture to picture in order to visit friends - and, he wasn't sure, but Remus thought that the suits of armour might be able to walk. There was just no way to navigate by your ever-changing surroundings. The place was a maze - a labyrinth - a seemingly impossible collection of pathways and passages that actively delighted in reshaping and reforming itself around the unwary and unsuspecting.

So - it came as a great relief to the first year students that they were at least able to start their day by following the older Gryffindors. For the rest of the day, however, they were not so lucky...

 **...**

That first morning, Remus trooped into the great hall with Peter, James and Sirius. They sat down at the Gryffindor table and helped themselves to bowls of porridge. 'Did you sleep alright, Sirius?' James asked, as he spooned golden syrup onto his oatmeal. 'Beds are comfy, don't you think?'

'Yeah … I slept… OK.' The handsome little boy looked pale and wan, though - and Remus wasn't entirely convinced he was telling the truth. The werewolf, himself, had slept deeply - but did not feel rested. It was always this way, as the full moon approached. He was tired out - and could fall asleep at a moment's notice - but he would wake up just as exhausted as before.

He glanced up towards the enchanted ceiling. Although the sun was now out - it was still possible to make out the very faint silver disc of the moon. He shuddered. It would be better once it was over. He'd feel better … for a couple of weeks, before it all started again.

'Well I slept like a log,' Peter said to the other boys, 'but I had weird dreams all night.'

'It was probably all the trifle you stuffed yourself with,' James told him. 'Next time don't pig out so much so close to bedtime.'

Peter flushed, and went back to eating his porridge, quietly. Remus frowned - James was one to talk - it wasn't Peter adding extra sugar to his morning cup of tea, and ladles of syrup to his cereal.

A sudden hooting and flapping of wings announced the arrival of the morning post. Further along the table, Remus heard Lily exclaim with shock - as she saw dozens of owls swooping into the hall and dropping letters (and feathers) onto the tables. Across the hall, other first year muggleborns were reacting with equal surprise; staring upwards, their mouths gaping open. But those familiar with the wizarding world, and the older students and teachers, all continued to eat as if nothing untoward had happened.

'Is this _sanitary_?' he heard Lily hiss, as she attempted to cover her bowl with her arms, in order to protect it from falling feathers. But no one around her seemed bothered. She continued to look unsure - and seemed mightily relieved when the owls had delivered their letters and swooped off.

Sirius was looking relieved too. He seemed to perk up a bit, once the post had arrived - and Remus wasn't sure why… And then one final owl arrived late. It was a very fine, very large, very elegant looking eagle owl - with glossy plumage and a green collar around its neck. It flew in, circled the Gryffindor table a few times, and then dropped a bright red envelope right in front of Sirius. The boy went pale and gulped.

James stared at it too - 'is that…?' he began to add. Sirius nodded - he looked around in panic - as if searching for an escape. The red envelope began to smoulder. 'I think you better it open it, mate,' James said to him, 'just get it over with.' But just as the young boy reached out - the whole letter burst into flames - and then a magically enhanced voice roared out - ripping through the air and making everyone fall quiet. Heads turned, as students looked to see who had been sent the howler. Sirius tried to sink so low in his seat that only his forehead was visible above the table. His forehead was now as bright crimson as the envelope.

'GRYFFINDOR?' the voice screamed at Sirius. 'NEVER - IN ALL MY YEARS HAS A BLACK BEEN PUT IN GRYFFINDOR! A HOUSE OF UNWORTHY MUDBLOODS AND TRASH! THAT IS WHO YOU ASSOCIATE WITH? THAT IS WHERE YOU THINK YOU FIT IN? YOU ARE NOT WORTHY TO BEAR THE NAME 'BLACK'. I ALWAYS KNEW THAT MY ELDEST SON - MY CRETINOUS BOYCHILD - WAS A DISAPPOINTMENT. BUT GRYFFINDOR? THIS IS THE FIRST STEP - ONE FOOT WRONG - ONE MUDBLOOD FRIEND - AND YOUR NAME WILL BE BLASTED OFF THE FAMILY TREE. NEVER - NEVER DID I THINK IT WOULD COME TO THIS!'

Then the voice died away, and the flames dampened down. A stunned silence hung over the hall - and then there was an uneasy laugh - and the chatting started back up, heads turned away and the students got back on with their breakfast. After another minute or so - once he was sure all the attention had left him - Sirius wriggled back up, so he was sitting properly at the table. 'Was that your mum?' James asked him. Sirius nodded, he looked miserable. 'Well she sounds nice,' the bespectacled boy said - and his friend began to smile. He picked his spoon back up and began to eat his porridge, once more - but Remus noticed that he kept casting awkward glances to the table second from the right - the Slytherin table.

The werewolf looked over - and saw a group of tall Slytherins all huddled together having a hushed conversation. Like Sirius they were casting glances across the room - their looks directed to the the Gryffindors. He looked back at Sirius, a question in his eyes. 'My cousins,' Sirius said to him - Remus hadn't even spoken, but somehow the boy just knew what he was thinking - 'and my second cousins … we're an old pureblood family - there are a lot of cousins.'

'One of them told your mother?' Remus said. Sirius nodded. 'My being in Gryffindor is a pretty big deal. And not in a good way.'

'You know - I would never have guessed that. Your mother's letter was so warm and congratulatory,' James said. Sirius smiled again. 'For my mum - that _was_ warm.'

'Well - at least she's got it out of her system now,' James said. But Sirius did not looked convinced, 'she'll still be waiting to wallop me with her broomstick when I go home for Christmas.'

'Well - you've got a couple of months - maybe you'll have learned to transfigure her into a frog by that time.'

'We do not use transfiguration on parents and authority figures, Potter,' a sharp voice barked out. James turned around in alarm, Professor McGonagall was standing right behind him.

'It was a joke!'

'Hmm' - her lips went white and thin. Then she turned to Sirius, 'Black, I would like you to come and see me in my office at break time.' Sirius looked alarmed at the prospect, but he nodded his head. She then thrust a piece of paper into his hands, he glanced down at it - just as she thrust another one towards James. 'First year timetables - your first lesson is Herbology - out in the greenhouses, so I suggest you hurry up and get out there.' She then walked off down the table handing out more timetables to the Gryffindor students. James raised his eyebrows at Sirius, 'blimey - you're already in trouble at home _and_ at school? A howler and a trip to the head of house's office on your first morning? They'll have sent you to Azkaban before you start second year.'

'Why does she want to see me?' Sirius asked, picking up his bag and making his way out of the hall, 'I get why my mum is mad - but what's McGongall's beef with me?' Remus followed on behind, more slowly - he suspected that the other boy wasn't in trouble at all, and his interview with the head of house at break time was purely to check he was OK after receiving such a horrible howler his first morning at school…

 **...**

Lessons proved to be just as impossible as the castle itself. Herbology took place out in the greenhouses and Professor Sprout - a dumpy witch with flyaway hair, patches on her hat, and dirt under her nails - started by giving them all a lecture. 'Right chaps,' she said, squinting at the assembled Gryffindors - and the Hufflepuffs they shared the lessons with - 'listen up. There are some very dangerous plants in this greenhouse - nasty venoms, plants with stingers, plants with suckers, plants with tentacles - that's _ten_ tacles, Potter,' she shot the boy an annoyed glance, as he giggled. Remus rolled his eyes. 'No one must touch a plant unless specifically instructed to do so,' she continued, 'and instructions must be followed precisely. There are plants in this world that can kill you stone dead, in a second, if you handle them wrong - and we will be handling them. I hate having to send children up to the infirmary during a lesson - I would especially hate to have to send anyone to the morgue. Now - today we will be looking into the proper care of shrivelfigs - open your textbooks to page 14, please...'

...

Charms was taught up on the third floor of the castle, by Professor Flitwick - a teacher so small he had to stand on a stool, to see over his desk. He started the class off by taking a register - and then proceeded to produce a flow of wine from his wand - telling them that they would be learning such things over the course of the next five years. 'But - of course - we must start small - simple wand work,' he said … and began to talk them through the various movements that they could perform with their wand - and what the results should be. By the end of the lesson they had swished and flicked and twirled and jabbed their wands, until their arms were exhausted, and the tiny teacher was beaming.

'Excellent excellent,' he said, 'next lesson we will look at casting our very first, simple charm … changing the colours on cushions. So for homework - I want you to read page 251 of your textbook, and come to the classroom next time armed with the knowledge of what wand work and incantation you will need.' There was a sudden kerfuffle as the first years dug in their bags to bring out their homework planners and quills and dutifully record their assigned task. Then the bell rang and they filed out.

...

Potions was far less enjoyable for the young werewolf. The Potions master - Professor Slughorn - was the giant, walrus moustached man who had tried to bet on Sirius becoming a Slytherin. He was jovial, and a had a deep booming voice - but Remus couldn't help but notice that he paid far more attention to some students than others. Indeed some of the students - Remus included - were all but ignored.

He set them the task of mixing a simple potion to cure boils. Remus paired with Peter - and they worked studiously at the back; weighing dried nettles and crushing snake fangs.

Next to them, Sirius and James had partnered together - naturally - but they were being far less studious, messing around - splashing each other and chucking nettles around. Remus sighed - did they never just give it a break? Professor Slughorn didn't seem to mind too much, though. He beamed at the pair of them - as they horsed around - 'now now boys,' he said, 'you can get in a nasty accident in the potions classroom if you're not careful.' He wagged a pudgy finger, 'and I know your mother wouldn't thank me if I allowed anything to happen to the Black family heir.' Sirius did not looked convinced. 'And you boy!' Slughorn boomed at James. 'How is your father? I imagine potions runs in your blood, boy? The Sleekeazy Hair Potion didn't invent itself, now did it?' He chuckled ruefully, 'not of course that i have much need for it these days. But still - I know your father, good man, good man.'

He beamed at them both again, ignored Remus and Peter, and then swept off to talk to Gaius Avery - one of the Slytherins - once again asking about the boy's father.

At the end of the lesson he went round each cauldron inspecting their potions. Remus and Peter had worked hard, and followed the instructions, carefully. But nevertheless their mixture more closely resembled a weak soup than a magic potion. He ladled up a spoonful and allowed it to splash back into their pewter cauldron. He wrinkled his nose. 'I've seen worse,' he sniffed, before heading onto Sirius and James- his massive grin in place, once more. 'And what do you two boys have for me?' He peered into the cauldron and then burst out laughing. 'It's purple!' he announced. He chortled, wheezily, 'I suppose you added the eye of newt before the dash of lemon juice?'

'We were meant to add lemon juice?'

Remus rolled his eyes - the recipe was right up there on the board! What was the point of wearing glasses that thick if you weren't even going to read what was right in front of you? But Slughorn wasn't annoyed, 'you're a rascal!' he said, wagging his finger at the pair of them,'you'll go far.' He spooned up some of the potion, 'and the consistency is good,' he admitted, 'better than others..' he glanced back at Remus and Peter. The two boys looked at each other in annoyance.

And then the professor bustled back up to the front, where he investigated the potion mixed by Lily and Severus. 'Well well well,' he boomed - his eyebrows shooting to the top of his head, 'what do we have here? … 'pon my word, this is the best I've ever seen. What are your names?'

'Lily Evans,' Lily said, looking embarrassed.

'Severus Snape,' Severus looked very pleased with himself.

'Evans and Snape - eh? A pair of natural potion makers. Well ten points each to Gryffindor and Slytherin. Evans … Evans … Evans … You're not related to the Pembrokeshire Evans' - Rhodri, Myfanwy, Dafydd - inventor of everlasting unbreakable elastic?'

'Um - I don't think so,' Lily said. 'I'm not Welsh.'

'Still … still … must be from good wizarding stock - talent like this.'

Lily opened her mouth - presumably to correct him - but she stopped when Severus kicked her ankle. She closed her mouth, and frowned at her friend. The bell rang and they all began to leave. 'Why did you stop me from telling him I'm muggle born?' Remus heard Lily ask, as they walked out.

'Slughorn thinks - lot's of people think - that it's important that your family is magic,' Severus said to her, 'he thinks you're a good witch - you don't want to prejudice him against you.'

But Lily sniffed and sounded dismissive, 'well - if he's going to give me bad marks because he doesn't like my muggle family then I don't really care what he thinks,' and she walked off with the Gryffindor girls, her nose in the air. Severus looked seriously put out.

'I don't think I like potions much,' Remus said to Peter, as they made their way back up the stairs, 'and I don't think Professor Slughorn likes us.'

...

Professor McGonagall, their own head of house - and Transfiguration teacher, was much more strict than Slughorn had been - but also much more fair. Like Professor Sprout, she began the class by outlining her expectations - and then set them to work trying to turn matches into needles. At the end of the hour, Remus was exhausted - but his matches remained resolutely wooden. He thought … if he squinted … they might be a bit more pointy, though.

Sirius and James had messed around through this entire lesson, as well, losing several points for Gryffindor in the process - but at the end their matches were a definite shade of silver. Remus wondered how they managed it.

The only person who had done better was Lily, again - and she had worked much harder. But her matches were now a handful of pointed silver sticks. 'Another lesson and you'll have got the eyes in there, Miss Evans,' McGonagall sniffed approvingly, 'ten points to Gryffindor - well done.'

It still didn't make up for all the points Sirius and James had lost, though.

 **...**

The lessons were exhausting and difficult, the castle was a nightmare to navigate - and the homework was piling up night on night. Sirius and James remained utter pains in the neck - constantly pranking each other as well as Remus and Peter. Peter would laugh along, and pretend he didn't mind… but the ever fattening moon was making Remus weary. He just didn't have the patience for their silliness. He just didn't find them funny. And that only made them target him harder. They hid his quill. They hid his potions book. They his his underwear. They trapped Molly McDonald's cat under his bed clothes, so that when he pulled back his covers it sprang out at him with a yowl - making him jump. One night he even woke up to find his left hand soaking in a bowl of warm water - and the two boys watching him expectantly. He had no idea what that was about…

He began to hide out in the library on a evening, in an attempt to avoid them for as long as possible. But then he just found that he was worrying what they would have waiting for him when he eventually went back. All in all - Hogwarts was not turning out the way he had hoped.

It wasn't until the Friday - when the Gryffindors had Defence Against the Dark Arts for the first time - that Remus truly felt that he was enjoying himself, or that maybe he was in the right place, after all.

Their teacher was a slight and slender, elderly witch named Professor Tenebris and though she looked stern and forbidding at first - it soon turned out that she had a warm smile - and a hearty sense of humour. She certainly didn't seem to let the seriousness of her subject get in the way of having a good time. 'The Dark Arts are ever changing, ever mutating - an almost living entity that no matter how hard you fight it, always develops new fronts. A many headed hydra of evil.' Her eyes twinkled, 'and who can tell me what happens when you cut a hydra's head off?'

Lily's hand shot straight in the air, 'another two grow back.'

'Exactly, and can you tell me how to stop the heads growing back?'

Lily looked a bit more uncertain, 'um - in the story he burned the stumps.'

'Cauterise the wound,' Professor Tenebris smiled, 'wonderful - and that is what I will be teaching you here, how to cauterise the wounds you may inflict upon your dark enemies.' She threw back her head and laughed, 'not that many dark enemies line themselves up against eleven year olds! Still … it never hurts to prepare young.'

'Have you ever fought any Dark Arts, Miss?' James piped up from the back. She looked at him, her expression stern - but her lips still twitching, as if she was fighting back a smile. 'Young man, in my youth I was a Vampire Hunter for the Ministry of Magic.'

'Wow.'

'Cool.'

Expressions of admiration broke out amongst the first years, and the witch threw her head back and laughed again. 'I wasn't always the withered old hag you see in front of you,' she chuckled, self deprecatingly, 'I used to stride through the wild forests of Europe, a string of garlic around my neck and a sharpened stake in my hand … of course the garlic attracted more Frenchmen than vampires…' she chuckled again, 'and I'd tell you those stories, too, but,' she coughed, 'you're a little young, perhaps. So - to business.'

She instructed them to open their textbooks to page 117. The page was about doxies - small fairy like creatures; with two sets of wings, and bodies entirely covered in thick, black hair. 'We're not quite ready for vampires,' she said, apologetically, 'but we must start somewhere.' She began to tell them all about the doxies - how they like to hide in soft furnishings - and then fly out and attack any unsuspected human that attempted to sit on the sofa or open the curtains. 'See their sharp teeth?' she asked - pointing to the diagram, 'doxie venom is not deadly - but it is irritating. You will feel nauseous and dizzy for up to five hours after a doxie bite. Best to get rid of the little blighters before they get the chance to bite you. Now - in the event of attack - and I use 'attack' loosely. A doxie flying at you is hardly the same thing as getting pinned down by a horde of inferi in the Carpathian mountains…'

'Did you once…?' James interrupted again,sounding breathless.

'Hmmhmm,' she made a noise of assent, nodding her head. The first years looked impressed again. 'But, as I was saying. Should a doxie fly at you - like an overgrown and angry bumblebee - a simple incantation should be enough to stop it.' She took out her wand. 'Now - repeat after me - ' _rigescunt indutae'_.'

They all dutifully repeated the word. 'Good,' she smiled, 'now practice this movement,' she waved her wand so it was circling clockwise. 'And say the incantation along with the movement.' They all tried it. A small blast of white sparks came out of Remus' wand. Professor Tenebris raised an eyebrow, and looked impressed. 'Excellent, excellent - Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a natural born doxie stopper in the class. Perhaps - young man, you would care to come up to the front and indulge us in a practical demonstration?'

Feeling nervous, Remus slid down from his stool and went up to the front of the room - he could feel the eyes of the class on him - and was reminded of that horrid moment just before being sorted. 'Now,' the professor smiled, she checked her seating plan, 'Mr. Lupin is it?' He nodded. 'Well, I have in here one freshly caught doxie.' She held up what looked like a lantern - but instead of a candle inside, there was a small winged creature, buzzing furiously. 'On the count of three, I am going to release the doxie - and it will, hopefully,' she paused to chuckle again, ' _hopefully_ \- fly straight at you. I want you to say the incantation - and wave your wand - and that should freeze it mid air, understand?'

Remus nodded.

'Nervous?' she smiled. He nodded again. Her smile became wider, 'quite understandable. I remember my first night out for the Ministry, staking out a castle in Tralee, where we believed a group of vampires were nesting. Well, I'd never so much as seen a vampire in the flesh, never mind captured or killed one - you can imagine how my hands were shaking, my heart was pounding … still we all learn to fight the dark arts somewhere - and this is your starting point. Nerves are a good thing. Use them. They keep you sharp. Are you ready?'

He swallowed - and then nodded again. It wasn't really the doxie, so much as his audience, that was bothering him. On the count of three, the professor tore open the door on the glass lantern - and the doxie came buzzing out - flying straight for Remus' face. He stuck his wand out, waved it in a circle and shouted ' _rigescunt indutae,'_ at the top of his voice. The white sparks shot from his wand, again, and hit the doxie full in the face. It froze in midair and then dropped to the ground, like a stone. Professor Tenebris began to applaud, and the girls and Peter joined in. Sirius and James exchanged a dark look between themselves.

'Excellent, excellent,' the professor was saying, 'in all my years teaching, I've never seen a student do so well first time out. You may be one to watch, my boy - you may have an affinity for fighting the Dark Arts.' Remus blushed. The two boys at the back exchanged another dark look - there was a hint of jealousy in it too. 'Twenty points to Gryffindor - most deserved,' she continued. Then she spoke to the rest of the class, 'now the rest of you - your homework for the weekend is to practice that incantation until, like Remus, you are producing the white sparks. And I'll know if you've practised - because you're all fighting doxies next lesson.' Then she smiled at the werewolf, 'you, of course, having already mastered the spell, may have the weekend off from homework.' A sudden crease appeared between her eyes, and her smile became sad, 'which is probably a blessing in your circumstances.'

Remus felt his stomach turn to lead - and raised his eyebrows in alarm. He glanced at his classmates to see if they had picked up on the teacher's strange words. But they were all too busy writing down their assignment. He went back to his desk - packed up his bag and, when the bell rang, went down to the great hall for tea.

 **...**

Late that night, he lay in his bed. He was glad it was the weekend tomorrow - he was glad he would get a lie in, and a break from lessons. He was exhausted, and his bones were aching and he was beginning to feel the chills that always crept up on him once a month. The rest would be greatly appreciated. But it wasn't all sunshine on the horizon. The full moon was the night after tomorrow...


	6. Chapter 6: The Full Moon

_**Chapter 6: The Full Moon**_

Saturday morning proved to be sunny and warm. The sky, as seen through the enchanted ceiling, was pale blue - with the occasional fluffy, white cloud floating past. Out of the windows it was just possible to glimpse the sunlight dancing on the surface of the lake, and the grass and the distant trees of the forbidden forest were a fresh and vivid green. It was all too inviting to just turn away from - and head back up to the dark and fire-heated common room.

After their breakfast in the Great Hall, Remus and Peter decided to take their Charms homework outside, and study by the shores of the lake, in order to enjoy the late summer weather. Being so far north - this could be the last they saw of it for a very long time, and the boys wanted to make the most of the light and the warmth whilst they could. There would be far too many months of darkness and snow that would follow.

They settled down under the shade of the willow tree - and opened up their charms textbooks to page 251 so they could read all about colour changing charms. It didn't take the young werewolf long - the spell seemed simple enough: _colourius mutatio -_ though it seemed to require a bit of force of will. According to writings of Miranda Goshawk, in the Standard book of Spells: grade 1:

 _The witch or wizard hoping to perform the colour changing charm must visualise, quite clearly, the colour they wish the item to become. This can prove more of a challenge than one might suspect - the old rule of:_ _ **whatever you do - do not picture a pink hippogriff**_ _often comes in to play_. _Simply put, as soon as you want to visualise the colour (e.g) 'orange' then the more determinedly (e.g) 'blue' will pop into your head. Whilst this can be an amusing mistake when attempting to change the colour of an inanimate object - it has been known to cause distress for the witch or wizard attempting to change their hair colour prior to an important social occasion. It is the recommendation of this writer, therefore, that the witch or wizard does not attempt the colour change charm on themselves until they have_ _ **absolutely mastered**_ _it on inanimate objects; cushions, cactuses, candlesticks and the like..._

Following the visualisation of the desired colour, Remus read, you then had to visualise the object - and force the new colour onto it in your mind's eye. Then, with an upwards flick of the wand, you said aloud your incantation and - presto chango - your object would change colour.

Putting the book down on the ground, but leaving it open for reference, Remus looked around for something to use - and then selected an early fallen leaf for his practice run. It was all dried up, curling at the edges and turning to brown - but still green in the middle.

According to Goshawk - it was easier to change to a colour that was closer to the original than it was to change to one completely different. Easier to stay within the same palette. The young werewolf didn't quite feel up to changing the leaf into shocking pink or electric purple … so he decided to settle on a lemony sort of pale yellow.

Immediately, shocking pink sprung into his mind. Goshawk was right … the more he tried not to think of pink, to concentrate only on yellow, the more vivid the pink became. He narrowed his eyes, staring at the leaf - and stuck his tongue out in concentration. Beside him, Peter put his own book down - and turned to watch. 'You're ready to give this a go?' the smaller boy asked.

Remus nodded, tongue still between his teeth. _Yellow_ he thought to himself _yellow yellow yellow. Lemons and sunshine and and …_ his mind drew a complete blank, as he failed to come up with a third yellow object - and the pink swam back into view. He decided to give it a go anyway. He flicked his wand upward and yelled ' _colourius mutatio'_ at the top of his voice. Peter stared at the dried up leaf expectantly. At first nothing happened and then - _woosh!_ The whole thing went up in flames.

'Quick put it out put it out!' Remus cried, grabbing his hat and ramming it down on the burning leaf, in the hope of starving it of oxygen. 'Is it spreading?' he had visions of the flames catching the dry blades of grass - and then licking their way across the entire grounds … leaving all the lawns a smouldering, sooty wreck. And then him being forced to leave Hogwarts in disgrace...

But he was in luck, his timely action had prevented the fire from spreading any further, and once he realised he was safe - he sank back down with a sigh of relief - and fanned himself with his hat.

There was a shout of amused laughter, from over near the lake - and he looked up to see Lily and Severus walking there, throwing toast into the water. 'Are you having trouble there, Remus?' Lily called across to him - her face merry and smiling.

'No - it's alright!' he waved back, 'I got it!'

She laughed again. Severus was also smiling - except his smile was not happy, it was sneering. He gave Remus a look that managed to make the werewolf feel small and stupid, in a way that all of Lily's chuckling hadn't, and then he turned away to talk to the redheaded girl. Like it had on the train, when he looked away from Remus and back to Lily - his expression changed completely.

He threw more toast into the lake - and the tentacles of the giant squid rose to the surface, and dragged the bread under. With the last of his toast gone, Severus looked back up towards the castle … and his face fell. 'Come on Lily, let's go,' he said, nudging her. She looked in the same direction as him - and then nodded. They walked away from the willow tree - taking the long path around the lake to get back to the castle.

Remus looked up to see what had caused them to move away. He sighed. Of course. The idiot twins. James and Sirius were racing down to the lake side, pushing and shoving each other - and laughing the whole way.

The werewolf was extremely happy that _they_ hadn't witnessed his little pyrotechnic mishap. It seemed like the sort of thing that they would never let him forget.

'Hey Peter,' James said, as the pair of them came up to the two boys under the willow tree. 'Davey Gudgeon - from Ravenclaw - just told us that there's a tree in the grounds that attacks you! It sort of swings its branches at you in an attempt to lop your head off. Me and Sirius are off to find it. Wanna come?'

'Yeah, OK,' Peter sounded enthusiastic - and got to his feet, happy to be invited. He turned to Remus, 'you coming?'

Remus looked up at the others, 'no,' he said, 'no - I'm pretty tired. Didn't sleep well, I guess - I'll just stay here and …'

But James and Sirius hadn't even stuck around to listen to his excuses, they were already half way down the lawn - and, with a backwards glance and a quick wave, Peter trundled on after them. Remus leaned back against the trunk of the willow tree - and closed his eyes. It was too close to the moon, now, he felt weak and shivery. Every bone inside of him seemed to ache - and he found he was glad that Peter had left him alone, so he didn't have to put a front on anymore. It would be better in a couple of days he told himself. He would be better.

'This is it!' James excited voice floated through the grounds, 'this is the tree that tries to kill you. Peter try and touch it - go on.'

There was a loud smacking sound - a scream from Peter - and then a resounding thump, which sounded very much like a body hitting the floor. Remus heard Sirius and James start to whoop in celebration. 'That was excellent! You try it Sirius - go on - you try it!'

' 'ere!' a voice suddenly roared across the grounds. 'What the bloomin' heck do you think yer doin'?'

Remus pried one tired eye open - and watched as the giant who had collected them from the train station rushed across the lawn towards the small group of boys. 'Didn't Professor Dumbledore warn you? Didn't he say - not to go near the whomping willow? Are you tryin' to get yourselves murdered?'

James and Sirius were staring up at the giant, open mouthed. He did seem quite a ferocious sight, right now - with his wild tangles of hair, his red face, and his small black eyes glinting in anger. 'I don' know - we're the two of you born without sense?' He picked up the unconscious form of Peter, 'I bes' get him to the hospital wing - you two stay out o' trouble.'

The giant turned his back on James and Sirius, and began the walk back up to the castle - carrying Peter is in arms. The two boys, left alone in the shades of the whomping willow, glanced at each other. 'What do you reckon?' James asked, 'Forbidden Forest?'

'Sounds like a plan! You know I heard there's werewolves living in there.'

'Excellent.'

And the pair of them, glancing over their shoulders to make sure they went unnoticed by the retreating giant, turned and headed off for the distant tree line. Remus shook his head - he knew they wouldn't come across any werewolves - but nevertheless, a little part of him hoped that they would encounter some ferocious beastie in there that would eat them.

...

The sun rose steadily until it was directly overhead. Remus had fallen fast asleep under the shade of the tree - his charms textbook still lying open beside him, and his wand clasped tightly in his right hand.

'Oi!' He was awoken, suddenly, by the bellowing of the giant, once more. 'What d'y' think yer doin'? Come outta there!... oh it's you two!'

Again, Remus pried an eye open - and this time it was to witness James and Sirius being grabbed by the collar by the giant, and dragged away from the edge of the forbidden forest. 'That's it!' the giant was yelling, 'I'm takin' yer both straight to Professor McGonagall.'

Remus bit his lip - and forced back a laugh, as he watched the two boys get manhandled through the grounds and back up to the school. They protested the whole way. 'Don't dob us in!' James cried.

'We won't do it again!' Sirius added, 'please!'

'You'll get us kicked out.'

'Nope nope nope,' the giant said to them, 'nothin' doin' - Professor McGonagall can decide what to do with yer.'

The massive oak doors slammed shut behind the struggling trio - and Remus chuckled to himself. He checked his watch - and realised it was nearly lunch time - and so began to pack up his charms homework, before making his own way back up to the castle.

...

None of the other first year Gryffindor boys were in the hall, when he arrived for his lunch. He assumed Peter must still be in the hospital wing, and Sirius and James must still be with McGonagall.

Part of this theory was proved true, when he overheard Petra Linehan tell Lily Evans that she had been walking past the Transfiguration classroom when she had heard McGonagall bawling somebody out. The unfortunate Gryffindor had lost 50 points for the house, and been sentenced to detention the following night, the young girl told Lily. 'She sounded really mad,' Petra said, 'I'd hate to get in trouble with her.'

'I wonder what they did?' Lily mused, 'must've been something really stupid or dangerous to make McGonagall yell like that. Normally she just kind of barks. And her lips go really thin and white.' The little red headed girl shuddered, 'whoever it was, I'm glad it's not me.'

Choosing not to join in with discussion , and share what he knew, Remus ate his shepherd's pie, quietly - and once he was done headed back to the common room to see if Peter was awake yet.

...

He only got lost twice, trying to get back to Gryffindor common room, by himself - and it was only twenty minutes after he'd left the hall that stumbled across the painting of the Fat Lady. 'Password?' She asked him.

'Aconite.'

She then swung forward, revealing the round hole in the wall, and he scrambled through into the busy common room.

He went up to the dormitory to put his charms book away and, when he returned, he found Peter sitting in a squashy armchair by the fire, looking pale but otherwise OK. 'How're you feeling?' Remus asked him, sitting down in the armchair opposite.

'Alright, Madam Pomfrey gave me a pep up potion to wake me up - and smeared some orange gunk on my head lump. It stung a bit - but it feels better now. She says I'll be fine.'

'Good.'

'Did you try again with the colour changing charm?' Peter asked him, 'did it work?'

'Uh - no - I … I fell asleep actually.'

Peter looked confused, 'in the middle of the day?' but then he shrugged, 'anyway - maybe you can help me with the charm, then - I really don't think I get it.'

'The theory is easy,' Remus began to tell him, 'it's just the…'

But then the portrait opened once more, and this time Sirius and James were the ones who came scrambling inside - each of them wearing a very dark scowl on their face.

'Detention tomorrow night!' James announced - sounding very aggrieved. He kicked a footstool in annoyance. 'Scrubbing out bedpans. Without magic!'

'And fifty points from Gryffindor!' Sirius said, looking just as gloomy.

Remus couldn't help wonder what the problem was - they easily lost fifty points for Gryffindor most days. Just not normally all in one go. Perhaps they didn't keep a running tally - and so had no idea how much damage they did to their house day to day.

'So what are you two up to?' James asked them, flumping himself down on the footstool he had just kicked.

'Charms homework,' Peter answered him, 'I just don't get…'

'God, Peter, how thick are you?' James asked, scornfully. 'The charms homework was easy - look.' He took out his wand and looked around the room, selecting an inanimate object. He chose Remus' chair - and pointed his wand at the young werewolf. Remus looked alarmed - 'don't…'

But James didn't listen. ' _Colourius mutatio,'_ he roared, flicking his wand upwards. There was a moment's pause - and then Remus' chair turned lime green. So did Remus' robes. He gazed down at himself, in surprise, whilst Sirius roared with laughter above him. 'Nice job, James - he looks better that way!'

'Change me back!' Remus said - sounding irritated, as James and Sirius continued to guffaw - and even Peter bit back a smirk. 'You idiot - I can't walk around in green robes - change them back!' But James and Sirius were too busy laughing to listen to him.

The round faced prefect, who had shown them to the common room on the first night, appeared by their side. 'What's going on?' she asked.

The boys looked up at her, 'Oh - hi, Alice, nothing,' James said.

'James was practising his charms homework,' Remus told her, from between gritted teeth. 'And he did… this…' he gestured to his garish robes.

Alice smiled, sympathetically - and then tutted at James. ' _Finite Incantatem,'_ she said, with a wave of her own wand - turning Remus and his chair back to their normal colours.

'Thanks,' Remus said to her, looking down at himself - and then twisting to examine his chair. 'That's a pretty handy spell.'

'A bit above first year level, I'm afraid,' she smiled, 'anyway - Remus - I have a note for you, from Professor Dumbledore.'

'Blimey!' they heard James say. The bespectacled boy and his handsome friend gave each other a surprised look and then turned to watch Remus.

The young werewolf was acutely aware of their searching eyes resting on him, as he fumbled to open the note. It wasn't very long - and was written in a slanty hand:

 _Sunset tomorrow is 8pm. I therefore wish that you present yourself to Madam Pomfrey at the hospital wing no later than 7:30pm. She will give you the necessary instructions for keeping you safe. My dear boy, I hope that tomorrow night proves not too difficult for you - and that you get through the experience safe and well._

'Well, what's he say?' James demanded, as soon as Remus was finished reading. The werewolf scrunched the paper up in his hand, 'nothing,' he said.

' _nothing?'_ James was very disbelieving, 'the headmaster of Hogwarts, himself sends you a private note about _nothing_? I don't think so.'

'Uh - yeah - it's private - keyword _private_.' And he threw the crumpled up piece of parchment into the fire, where the flames licked around it and it began to burn. James eyed it, carefully - and Remus decided to make his excuses - and escaped the common room for the privacy of the dormitory.

* * *

'Why are we getting up so early?' Sirius hissed. It was Sunday morning - the sun was yet to rise over the horizon - but the young boy found himself being shaken awake by James.

'I want to get into the common room before the fire is lit,' the other boy whispered.

'Why.'

'Come on,' he shoved Sirius out of bed, and then bundled him down the stairs into the deserted Gryffindor common room. Sure enough the grate was empty - the fire not yet lit - and only the remains of yesterday's coals sat in the fireplace.

Sirius yawned widely, and wrapped his arms around himself to protect himself from the cold - he only had on his thin, striped pajamas. 'What are we doing?'

James was on his knees, down by the grate, rooting through the ashes. 'Yeah - here it is - come and see.'

'What is it?' the handsome boy made his way to kneel beside his friend - but he sounded more bored and irritated than interested.

'It's the note that Mr. friendly got from Dumbledore yesterday,' James frowned, 'or what's left of it.'

'OK - why?'

'Don't you wanna know why the headmaster is writing to loony loopy Lupin?'

'No - it's not our business.'

'Spoilsport.' James squinted down at the charred remains of parchment in his hands. Most of the writing had been burned away, but he could still make out some of it. ' _Sunset … present yourself… 7:30pm …_ then there's a whole chunk missing from the middle ...but then it finishes … _get through the experience safe and well.'_

'Fascinating,' Sirius yawned, 'now can we go back to bed, now?'

'But what does it all mean?'

Sirius shrugged, 'don't know - don't care. If Remus wanted to tell us - he'd tell us.' He got back to his feet and stumbled his way back to the staircase that led to his dormitory. After a moment, James followed him … but the look on his face plainly said that he had not given up on this little mystery.

...

Remus had had a very quiet Sunday - keeping mostly to the library to avoid James and Sirius. He finished his reading for charms - and read up on transfiguration, feeling relieved that unlike the rest of his class he did not have Defence Against the Dark Arts homework to complete as well.

His entire body was weary now, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He kept on yawning, as he tried to concentrate on his reading; and Madam Pince, the librarian, kept shooting him suspicious glances.

He stayed in the library until teatime. After tea, James and Sirius slunk off to complete their detentions - and Remus felt able to return to the common room. Tired as he was - he forced his way through a game of gobstones with Peter - until he checked his watch and found it was a quarter past seven.

'Hey, Peter - you know yesterday? How did get to the Hospital wing?'

'Hagrid took me - I was unconscious.'

'Hagrid?'

'The giant.'

'Oh - alright - I guess, what I mean is - where is the hospital wing?'

'Why? Are you sick?'

Remus sighed, 'yeah - I've been under the weather for a while. I thought Madam Pomfrey might be able to give me something - so I'm better for class tomorrow.'

'You want me to come with?'

'No need - just tell me where it is.'

...

Directions given, Remus left the common room and began to make his way towards the hospital wing. It was over the other side of the castle - and it was with quite a bit of trepidation that he walked down the corridors, hoping none of the staircases moved on him, as time was so short.

The castle was eerily quiet. All students were back inside their common rooms now - and the place was deserted. The ghost of a tall grey witch floated past him, but paid him no attention.

As he passed the tapestry of Frederica the fearsome, the valkyrie witch who had defeated the trolls at the battle of Trelinsk, on the second floor - he heard a hushed whispering. Rounding the corner, he bumped into Lily and Severus, who looked just as startled to see him as he was to see them.

'What are you doing here?' the werewolf blurted out in surprise.

The pair looked at each other, 'we were just meeting up - we don't get to see too much of each other,' Lily explained, looking worried that Remus might tell on them. 'Sev's common room is so far away from our's, you see, down in the dungeons. We have to meet halfway. Don't tell anybody, will you?'

'No - of course not.'

Lily visibly relaxed, and began to smile. But Severus was still staring at the other boy. 'Never mind us, what are you doing out so late?'

'I'm going to the hospital wing.'

'Why?'

' _I don't feel well.'_ Remus said, slowly and deliberately, like he thought Severus was not that bright. But Snape would not be deterred. 'What's wrong?' His questions were not coming from a place of concern, and Remus did not have time to answer them. 'None of yours…' He began to walk away. He could feel the pair of them watching him, as he went.

'I hope you feel better soon,' Lily called after him, 'and watch out - Filch is about.'

...

Remus continued on his way, down the stairs and along the transfiguration corridor. As he passed by a painting of Wendric the wild, a door suddenly burst open. And sure enough - there was Filch - his face red, his eyes popping, staring down at the boy. 'Aha!' he shouted, 'got you!' There was a tiny mewling sound, down at his feet, and the caretaker looked down; and his voice and face immediately became much softer. 'There you see, my sweet,' he said to the tiny kitten he was training as his assistant, 'we have to keep a constant look out for students out of their beds.'

'It's not yet 7:30…' Remus began.

'Out in the corridors after hours!' Filch interrupted, 'befouling the castle, dirtying and destroying it with their dungbombs and their muddy feet…'

'I'm just off to the hospital wing - I'm not trying to …'

'I'll report you to Professor McGonagall, so I will, she'll deal with you. Though if I had my way, I'd have you chained up by your ankles in the dungeons...'

'What's going on?' The head of Gryffindor house had stuck her head around her office door, hearing the disturbance out in the corridor.

'Ah - professor - I just caught this young whelp out for a moonlit stroll - no doubt planning to steal something or break something valuable.'

'Professor - really - I'm just off to the hospital wing.'

Professor McGonagall squinted at the young boy, 'yes, of course - well - off you go Remus. Argus, there is no need to detain the boy any further - I know all about it.'

Filch looked deeply disappointed as, with a sigh of relief, Remus continued on his way.

...

He made it to the hospital wing without anymore mishaps - and pushed the door open. He froze. James and Sirius were in there - scrubbing out bedpans. They stared at him in surprise. There was an awkward moment, and then Madam Pomfrey bustled over - telling the two troublemakers that they had served their time and were free to go, she shooed them out and ushered Remus in.

'So,' she said, once the door had closed behind Sirius and James. 'You must be our Mr. Lupin?'

'Yes.'

'Well - thank you for your prompt arrival. I will now take you to your safe place for containment. Is there anything you need before we go?'

He shook his head - and she led him out of the ward, and back through the castle, taking him outside and into the grounds.

...

By the tapestry of Frederica the fearsome, Lily said her goodbyes - and began to head back to the Gryffindor Common room. Walking in the opposite direction, Severus glanced out of the window - and frowned as he saw two figures walking across the grounds. He couldn't quite make out who they were, as it was getting dark, but it was a woman and a young boy, he was sure of that.

...

Lily arrived in the corridor that led to Gryffindor tower - she sighed as she saw James down the other end, peering out of the window. 'Sirius, come and look at this' he hissed. Sirius joined him and squinted out into the gloaming evening. 'Is that Madam Pomfrey?' he asked - recognising the silhouette of her nurse's headdress.

'Yeah - so who's that with her?'

...

Madam Pomfrey led Remus past the lake, beyond the willow tree that he had sat under the day before, and over to the whomping willow, near the edge of the forest. It was creaking, and waving its branches around furiously - even though there was no wind. 'Uh - Madam Pomfrey - this tree…?'

'Has been especially planted for your use,' the matron told him. 'It attacks anyone who comes near it - so no one will be able to find the entrance to your hiding place.'

'But won't it attack us?'

Madam Pomfrey picked up a long and hefty stick, 'not if we know how to deal with it,' she said. She used the stick to prod a knot right at the bottom of the tree's trunk. Immediately, the whomping willow stopped moving and froze in place - now looking and acting like a normal tree. 'Now - you only have a few moments,' Madam Pomfrey told him, 'there is an entrance at the base of the trunk, slip down it and then follow the passage right the way to the end. You'll reach a house, which you can't get out of any other way than the passage. You'll be safe in there, go on.'

With a backwards glance at the matron, Remus slid under the branches of the tree and slipped down the opening he found there. He landed in a deep, earthy passageway. As he did, he heard the creaking which signalled the whomping willow was now awake once more. No one could get inside with him.

...

It was pitch black in the tunnel, and he dug out his wand. ' _Lumos,'_ he whispered, and a light appeared on his wand tip. Holding his makeshift torch aloft, he stumbled along the passageway, keeping his left hand against the wall to help guide him.

Eventually, after many twists and turns and fallings over, he reached the end and, climbing through a trap door he found in the ceiling, he pulled himself up into the house that was designated as his prison.

Dumbledore had clearly gone to some effort to make the house seem like a real home, to make it seem inviting and welcoming for the poor, lonely boy who would have to spend his nights there. There was a merry fire blazing in the grate, and squashy armchairs and brightly patterned curtains hanging at the pretend windows.

The boy took the staircase upwards, and found a bedroom there - with a decent sized four poster bed, and again, another cheerful fire. He sank down on to the bed - and then lay back and waited...

Slowly, the full moon rose in the sky - and Remus began to feel his muscles ache and then pull and tear. His bones cracked and snapped, as they reformed themselves inside of him. He sprouted fur on his face and the back of his hands - his nails grew into pointed claws, and his teeth turned into sharp fangs.

Then, there was a wild howl which echoed through the streets of Hogsmeade; reverberating around the little houses, and rattling their windows. And, for the rest of the night, there was no more Remus Lupin.


	7. Chapter 7: Suspicions Arising

_**Chapter 7: Suspicions Arising**_

Madam Rosmerta yawned, widely, as she shuffled towards the front door of the three broomsticks. Her hair was still in curlers and there were dark circles under her eyes. She had not slept well. She unbolted the door and bent down to pick up the bottle of milk and morning paper. As she straightened up, she caught sight of Ambrosius Flume doing the exact same thing, a little further down the road. She waved her rolled up copy of the Daily prophet at the Honeyduke's proprietor. 'Morning Ambrosius,' she called down the street.

'Morning, Rosmerta, M'dear,' he called back. He, too, had dark circles under his eyes. He kept glancing warily upwards at the crooked, little house that sat on top of a hill at the very end of the road, just outside of the village. 'Is something bothering you, Ambrosius?' Rosmerta called. He looked about, uneasily, and then shuffled up the road towards her - clad only his pajamas and slippers.

He didn't speak until he reached the door of the three broomsticks - when he lowered his voice and leaned his head towards the landlady. 'Did you - uh - did you hear anything last night, Rosmerta? Anything... unusual?'

She yawned, widely, again. 'I was kept awake all night,' she told him, 'by the most awful shrieking - howling, almost, like an animal in dreadful pain.'

'Us too,' Ambrosius said, 'Mrs. Flume and I were up all night, listening to the most unearthly caterwauling. Screaming, banging, crashing, carrying on … never heard anything like it.'

'Any idea what it was?'

The Honeydukes owner nodded in the direction of the house - standing all alone, separate from all the other dwellings, it's windows and doors boarded up. 'Sounded like it was coming from that cottage over there - but what it was… and how it got into that abandoned, ramshackle old thing...'

Rosmerta nodded, 'more of a shack than a cottage,' she agreed, 'just terrible shrieking… d'you think something's trapped inside?'

'Maybe it's spirits possessing it?'

The landlady shuddered. 'Well - whatever's in there - I hope it moves along soon. I can't take two nights like that on the run.'

...

As the early September sun crept through the window of the first year Gryffindors Boy's dormitory, James Potter rolled over, mumbling as he drifted into wakefulness. The rays of sunshine shone down onto his face and - without opening his eyes - he pulled his pillow over his head and buried into the darkness, trying to fall back asleep. It was no good - now he was awake he was aware that he was hungry and he needed the bathroom, and all the dark the pillow had to offer could not blot out those sensations. He sat up in bed.

He frowned. Opposite his own bed was Remus's. Mr. Friendly always slept with the curtains of his four poster tightly drawn around him - but this morning they were open, still tied back. And more than that - the sheets were still pulled up. It did not look like the bed had been slept in.

'Sirius,' James hissed at the boy, who still slept deeply in the next bed, 'Sirius - wake up.' He threw his pillow at his friend - and the handsome boy woke up, with a groan. 'Oof - James you nutter - what did you do that for?'

'Did you hear Remus come in last night?' James asked him, 'after we went to bed - did Remus come in?'

'Dunno.' The young boy yawned.

'His bed hasn't been slept in.'

'Maybe he stayed at the hospital wing,' Sirius suggested, blearily. He rolled over, turning away from James, and hugged the pillow that the other boy had thrown at him. ' 's'not time to get up, yet,' he mumbled, 'go back to sleep.'

'Can't,' James replied, 'you've got my pillow.'

'Should have thought of that before you…' he trailed off, as he drifted back into sleep. James sat on his bed - staring at Remus' empty bed - and chewed his lip, as he thought.

...

When Remus woke up, he was aching all over. Every inch of his body felt tender and bruised. He was lying on the hard, wooden floor of the living room - though he had no recollection of leaving the bedroom, of coming down the stairs. He shivered, and wrapped his arms across his bare chest for warmth. He should get up and put his clothes on - but every inch of him felt like it had been beaten and pulverised and he needed to lie down, just for a moment… just for a few moments more.

A sound in the passageway alerted him to the fact that he was not going to be alone much longer - and modesty forced him up, where the cold had not been able to. He clambered to his feet and stumbled up the stairs, heading back for the bedroom - and his discarded robes - before Madam Pomfrey could find him lying naked on the floor.

As he pulled his his robes over his head, he heard the worried voice of the matron calling through the house for him. 'Mr. Lupin? Mr. Lupin?'

'I'm up here,' he called back to her, 'I'll be down in a sec.'

He put his shoes and socks on and then made his way down the stairs. He had to cling to the banister, as he did, his aching legs did not feel like they could support him properly.

He found Madam Pomfrey stood in the middle of the living room - staring around. He followed her gaze - and saw the destruction his wolfish form had wrought on the little room. Some of the wooden furniture had been smashed up into sticks, there were deep gouge marks in the floors - where he had tried to claw his way out, and the curtains were ragged and torn - where he had gripped them in his mouth and savaged them. The young boy blushed, as he took in the mess. 'I'm sorry,' he said, 'I didn't mean… I mean - I can't control...'

Madam Pomfrey shook her head - as if snapping out of a reverie - and smiled at him. 'Of course you can't, dear - we don't expect… but it's no matter.' She took out her wand and waved it - the furniture remade itself, the curtains mended their torn fabric and the grooves in the floor smoothed over. 'No harm done,' she said. 'Now - how are you feeling?'

'Sore,' he admitted, 'and tired - mostly.'

'Well - I need to get you back to the castle before everyone is up - and then, once we're back at the hospital wing, I'll give you a potion to help you heal and you can pop into bed and sleep it all off.'

'I - I can't do that,' he protested, 'it's Monday - I'll miss class.'

'Young man,' her voice was crisp and firm and brooked no argument, 'you were looking peaky when you came to me last night. You look positively dreadful, now. And whilst you are a patient of mine you will not be going to classes and running yourself down further. You can't learn, if you're tired and in pain. Bed rest. Time. Quiet. That's what you need - and it's what you're getting. Whether you like it or not.'

He nodded. He was too tired to argue. He ached too much. And it was a relief - if he was honest - to learn that he was not going to be allowed back into the classroom today. Madam Pomfrey was right: he would be no good at his lessons when he felt as dreadful as this. The idea of sinking into a warm, soft bed and having someone take care of him sounded like heaven, right now.

The matron wrapped her arm around his slight shoulders and supported him back through the trapdoor and into the passage that led back to the Hogwarts grounds. He leant on her all the way back to the castle.

...

Once safely back at the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey handed the young werewolf a pair of pajamas and then pulled some curtains around his bed to give him some privacy, as he changed. He took his robes off and pulled on the stripy pajamas, wincing as the cotton brushed against the fresh cuts he had torn into his own skin.

Once he was under the covers, the matron came round the curtains bearing two beakers of steaming potion, which she carried on a silver tray. 'Here we go,' she said to him, handing him the first beaker. He stared at its contents. The concoction was a pale green, it was bubbling and the steam was rising from it in spirals. Remus sniffed at it - it smelt of burnt nettles. 'What is this?' he asked - reluctant to drink something so unappealing looking.

'Hippworth's Healing Tincture,' she told him, 'instant relief for all your aches and pains - drink it up now, there's a good lad.'

He took a cautious sip - and the acrid, bitter taste of the potion hit the back of his throat and made him choke. 'Th- that's disgusting!' he coughed. Madam Pomfrey tutted and, under her unwavering gaze, Remus held his nose and forced himself to drink the rest of the steaming, bitter mixture.

As he raised his beaker - to get the last few drops from the bottom, his pajama sleeve fell down to his elbow, exposing his lower arm - and the angry, red scratch that ran the length of it. Madam Pomfrey's eyes narrowed, as she saw it. Once he'd put the beaker back on his tray, she took his arm and rolled back his sleeve, examining the scratch. 'Do you have more like this?' she asked him. He nodded. 'There's - there's some on my chest - and my side - too.'

'Were you planning on telling me?'

He shrugged. He was always covered in cuts and scrapes and scratches and gouges after the full moon. Separated from humans to scratch and bite, he would scratch and bite himself - and his human body bore the marks of the wolf's vicious frustration. 'Don't drink that second beaker yet,' Madam Pomfrey said to him - and she bustled away.

He sat back, leaning against his pillows, and closed his eyes. The Healing Tincture was doing its job, he could feel it working already (though the bitter taste of nettles still lingered in his mouth, making him grimace). The aches and the pains, the throbbing in his bones where they had broken and reformed - knitting themselves into new shapes, were receding. A warmth was spreading through him - soothing the dull pains away, it felt like he was sat by a fire and was letting the warmth of the flames wash over him; or like he had sunk into a hot, deep bath.

Remus opened his eyes again, when he heard Madam Pomfrey return. This time she was carrying a tub filled with an orange paste. 'Roll your sleeve back,' she ordered him. He did so - and she smeared the paste on his scrape. It stung. 'Now show me the rest,' she said. He unbuttoned his pajama top and showed her the scratches on his chest; the one across his belly and the deep gouge just above his left hip. She tutted again, when she saw the damage, and set to smothering the orange paste all over his wounds. He breathed in, sucking the air in between his teeth, as the ointment stung his skin.

'Of course, I can't get rid of these entirely,' Madam Pomfrey said to him, as she worked. 'Werewolf wounds are cursed - same as the original bite. There'll be scars. But I can at least heal them so they stop hurting. It's the best I can do.'

'Thanks - that feels better already.'

He rebuttoned up his shirt and sank back against his pillows, once more. She gave him a brisk, business like sort of smile. 'Right - well - injuries tended to, it's time for you to get some sleep young man.' She indicated the second beaker. Remus picked it up and looked down into the glass. This mixture was thick and black, like treacle. 'What does this one do?'

'Puts you into an enchanted, dreamless sleep,' she told him. 'We don't want you having any nasty nightmares about last night, when we need you to rest and heal, do we? Make sure you drink it all up - you'll be out for most of the day - and once you're up again it'll be time to give you some chocolate.'

'Thanks,' he said again. Madam Pomfrey stayed with him to make sure he drained the whole beaker and then, once he put the empty glass down, he lay back and closed his eyes. He was asleep within moments.

Madam Pomfrey watched the sleeping boy for a little while. Her eyes were sad, and there were worry lines etched around her mouth. He looked so pale against the white of the pillows, except for the awful dark rings beneath his eyes - like he'd been given two black eyes. But his breathing was deep and even, his chest was rising and falling steadily - he did not seem to be in any pain - so she picked up her silver tray, with the empty beakers and the tub of ointment on it, and left him to sleep off the previous night.

...

James stared up and down the Gryffindor table. 'I can't see him anywhere, can you?' he asked Sirius.

'What are you on about?'

'Loony loopy Lupin - he wasn't in the dorm and he isn't in breakfast.'

'I told you - he probably stayed in the hospital wing.'

They were cut off from further discussion by the arrival of the owl post. The sudden screeching overhead signified the arrival of the mail and the birds swooped around underneath the enchanted ceiling delivering their packages and dropping feathers. As she always did during the post, Lily grimaced and leaned over her bowl of porridge, shielding it with her arms. 'Have you people not heard of stamps?' she grumbled to herself, as a tiny scops owl, delivering a letter to Petra, missed its mark and dropped a letter down on her own red head.

'What's a stamp?' Petra asked, curiously, taking the envelope addressed to her and slitting it open.

'Nothing,' Lily sighed, looking glum, 'never mind.'

The last of the owls finished delivering its package and wheeled away. James watched as it flew out of the window - headed back to the school owlery - and then turned back to Sirius. 'But why would he stay in the hospital wing? He was well enough to walk down there by himself, last night. And either he was left alone there, or it was him that went for a late night stroll with Madam Pomfrey last night. That's suspicious, don't you think?'

But Sirius was not interested, and refused to discuss it any further. 'Look - he's been looking peaky for days.'

'Has he?'

'Yes! Those bloody great rings under his eyes - and he's been dropping off to sleep all over the shop. For someone so focused on what Remus is up to - you don't really pay attention. He was under the weather - he went to the hospital wing. We'll see him in class. End of.'

...

But Sirius was to be proven wrong. As the class trundled into their first History of Magic lesson and took their seats, there was still no sign of the fourth Gryffindor boy. Peter - without Remus to sit with - followed James and Sirius to the back of the classroom. The girls sat up front. There was a general rummaging in bags, getting out ink and parchment and their copies of _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot and then the door opened and their teacher walked in.

Professor Binns was so ancient he looked like he was actually withering away in front of them. His face was cobwebbed with lines and he wore thick spectacles which he peered through - as if they weren't that much help. His body was small and crooked and his robes hung off him in folds. What little hair he had left was white and tufty. He sat down at his desk and cleared his throat. 'Ahem - this is History of Magic - we will be studying the goblin wars for the first term.' His voice was as creaky and ancient as the rest of him.

'I see you have your textbooks out, please turn to page 12 - we will start with the long term causes of the 1242 Goblin rebellion - which in turn led to the 40 year Goblin war, which started in 1465. Now - in 1201, Gudruk the Cunning fashioned a belt buckle from the purest silver and laid many enchantments upon it - as goblins have the ability to work great wonders with metal of all sorts and weave their own magics in it. He sold it to a wizard, Melchior the Bold, with the promise that when he wore this belt buckle no curse or jinx could harm him…'

Professor Binns was lecturing straight from his notes. He did not look up at the class, he did not ask them any questions - or stop to check that they were keeping up and understanding. He just droned on and on, telling them the history of Gudruk, Melchior and the enchanted belt buckle - which somehow led to a decades long war many centuries later.

It sounded like it should be interesting. It wasn't. The ancient teacher's desiccated voice sucked any excitement out of the tale - turning a rebellion into a series of turgid dates and facts. James felt his eyes glaze over and he began to tune out the professor's dry ramblings. Instead, he stared at the empty stool next to Peter and wondered about where Remus was - and if it had been him who had crossed the grounds as dusk fell, the night before.

'...when Melchior died in 1235, Gudruk and his children claimed that the belt buckle was to revert back to their ownership. Melchior's son, Ichior, had different ideas - however. Ichior was a combative wizard who wished for the protection that the belt buckle might give him. He claimed that, paid for by wizard's gold - the buckle was now the possession of his own family. But that is not how Goblin's view transactions between gold and their own crafted metals. Fearing they would take the buckle back, Ichior hid it where none but he could find it. Gudruk's son - Bognog the bearded - broke into Ichior's home and seized the wizards' wand in revenge…'

James chewed on his lip. And - if that was Remus crossing the grounds last night - where was he going? Students were not meant to be out of their common rooms once the sun had set, never mind out of the castle itself. And why would someone who was so ill they needed the hospital wing - had been under the weather for a while now, according to Sirius - decide to leave the castle? Why would Madam Pomfrey let him?

'...after running amok and giving the then chief of the wizard's council - the wizard's council is the governing body that preceded the ministry of magic before its foundation in 1707 - a particularly fine pair of antlers, it was decreed (once his antlers had been removed) that never again would a none human wield a wand.'

The bell went for the end of the lesson. James jumped. He had been in a world of his own.

'Blimey,' Sirius said, as he packed up his bag, 'I hope it's not going to be seven years of this - that went on forever. Have you ever been so bored in your life?' They left the classroom and headed down to the dungeons for double potions.

...

Slughorn waddled his way through the cauldrons - peering into the mixtures that the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins were brewing. Today it was a draught to stop hiccoughing. 'Useful potion this one,' the potions master boomed, he dipped a ladle into the solution Avery and Mulciber were mixing - and frowned slightly at its runny consistency. 'Then there is the opposite potion to this,' he informed them, 'a hiccoughing solution which will debilitate anyone who drinks it with such severe hiccoughs that wizards have been known to die of exhaustion.' The two Slytherin boys gave each other a look - the twist in their faces suggested they liked the sound of learning how to master that one. 'So you see - it's important to know the antidote,' Slughorn finished up.

'You boy!' he turned and boomed at Peter, pointing at him, 'where is your partner? wasn't there another lad with you last lesson?'

Peter nodded - looking quite uncomfortable at suddenly being singled out and having to speak in front of the class. 'He - he went to the hospital wing late last night. I haven't seen him since.'

James tried to give Sirius a significant glance. Sirius ignored him. Meanwhile, over at the other side of the classroom, Severus was scrunching up his face - as he learned that the other boy had never returned from his trip to the hospital wing - and he remembered the figures he had seen crossing the grounds in the gathering twilight. He leaned across his cauldron and began to whisper into Lily's ear.

'Dear me, dear me,' Slughorn was saying, ''pon my word, let's hope he's feeling better for next time. He doesn't want to fall behind right at the very beginning of his wizarding career - oh no he doesn't.'

Then he shook his head, forgot all about Remus, and went to go and see what Lily and Severus were up to - exclaiming in delight at the perfect shade and consistency of the draught they had managed to mix. 'You two are bound for the most extraordinary society of potioneers,' he beamed at them, 'never seen anything like it in all my days!'

The bell rang for the end of the lesson and - once they had cleared away - it was break time.

...

James cornered Peter near the greenhouses, during break. 'Hey, Peter - you're friendly with Remus. Do you think maybe you should go check on him? See that he's alright?' Beside him, Sirius sighed and shook his head, 'not this again,' he muttered, 'why can't you just leave it?'

The other boy turned on him, 'don't you wanna know what's going on?'

'No! It's not our business.'

'Even if Lupin's leaving the castle after dark?'

'Still not our business.'

Peter had been following the argument between the two of them, his head turning as if he were watching a tennis match, but when James turned back to him and asked him to visit the hospital wing to see what he could find out, the smaller boy agreed. He was a little intimidated by these two boys - who were constantly pranking and laughing - especially when Remus wasn't around to bear the brunt of their jokes. He would agree to do whatever James wanted, if it got him off his back.

...

Peter waited until Herbology was over, and then went up to the hospital wing during lunch. Just as he reached the corridor, he bumped into Lily - also making her way towards the sanatorium. 'Hi,' she said, sounding a little embarrassed to be there.

'Hi,' he mumbled back.

'Are you here to see Remus?' she asked him. He nodded. 'Me too,' she said, 'I think he should be left alone to get better in peace, if he's poorly, but … well, Sev has a bee in his bonnet about something and he wants me to check Remus is really there. I suppose it might be nice for him to see a friendly face whilst he's under the weather. But I do feel bad - spying - how awful.'

Peter nodded again. He hadn't considered that this was spying. But he supposed Lily was right - and it was. He was spying for James - well, at least that would mean that James owed him one and so might ease up on playing tricks on him and calling him names. Remus wouldn't mind, he decided, the other boy would understand - he was always avoiding the other Gryffindor boys.

As they entered the sick room, they found their path blocked by Madam Pomfrey - who stared down at them with a suspicious look on her face. 'And what brings you two here?' she said, she scanned them - scrutinising them for any signs of illness and deciding they were healthy - and therefore trespassing.

'We came to see if Remus is feeling any better,' squeaked Lily. 'He said he didn't feel well last night - and he hasn't been in his lessons so we thought…'

The matron raised an eyebrow. 'Mr. Lupin is currently sleeping, he needs rest and quiet. He will be back with you either later tonight or tomorrow morning - now shoo!'

The two children turned and left - and went to report what little they had found out to their respective friends.

...

Across the castle from each other, James and Severus turned the same information, and the same problem, over in their minds. Remus _was_ in the hospital. And, from the sound of it, he had been there all along. He needed rest and peace - but no actual medicine. So what was wrong with him? And who was it that Madam Pomfrey had led away from the castle and towards the Forbidden Forest the night before?

...

It was well past teatime when Remus finally woke up. Madam Pomfrey gave him a light supper of boiled egg and soldiers and then a mug of hot chocolate and told him to go back to sleep. He could return to the rest of the castle the next day. After drinking the last of his chocolate, he settled back down and fell instantly asleep. Despite having slept all day, he did not wake at all until the next morning.

...

He had his breakfast in the hospital wing and then went downstairs. His first lesson of the day would be charms - and he found his fellow Gryffindors lined up in the third floor corridor. He said good morning to Peter and then Flitwick arrived and they all went inside. But, throughout the whole lesson, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck kept prickling.

One time, he turned very quickly and caught James Potter staring at him. The bespectacled boy looked away, just as suddenly, and went back to trying to change the colour of his chameleon. Remus frowned. Why did James Potter suddenly find him so fascinating?

The next lesson was flying - with the Slytherins - and here he noticed that it wasn't just Potter eyeballing him. Severus was watching him very closely as well - as if he expected the young Gryffindor to suddenly sprout a second head or something.

Mounting his broom, Remus gulped as a realisation suddenly hit him. Both James and Severus knew he had gone to the hospital wing the night of the full moon. And now they were both keeping a close eye on him - scrutinising his every move - watching for signs of ... something…

On Madam Hooch's whistle, he kicked off from the ground and his broom rose steadily ten feet into the air. But it wasn't the sudden sensation of flying that had made his stomach lurch.

...

He felt both James' and Severus' eyes on him the whole time for the next couple of days. He tried not to let it bother him, tried to pretend he hadn't noticed. They couldn't _know_. They couldn't even suspect. They'd tell someone if they did - and then he would be kicked out. No - his secret must still be safe… but he was going to have to be extra careful.

As the days passed and turned into weeks, the first years settled down at Hogwarts. They got used to their new lives: living in the close quarters of the dormitories; doing their homework in the common room; eating their meals together in the great hall. The longer they studied, the more interesting their lessons became (except for History of Magic - which remained as stultifying as ever). And - all though the days shortened and the air became colder - the new students found they were really enjoying their first month at the wizarding school.

Remus didn't love all his lessons - he knew, for sure, that potions was never going to be his strong suit. But he liked his teachers. He liked playing gobstones with Peter by the roaring common room fire on an evening. He liked getting letters from home. And best of all - he like Defence against the Dark Arts. Everything there just came so naturally to him - like potions did for Lily and Severus - and Professor Tenebris was delighted with his progress, often calling him out to the front to provide a demonstration for his classmates. By the end of September, he was able to using a freezing jinx on doxies, fairies and Cornish pixies and he had begun to study the best way to break the enchantments of Trows; local semi invisible creatures who lived underground and kidnapped hapless humans.

He kept his head down, worked hard and won plenty of points for Gryffindor. As the weeks rolled on - and September turned into October - the young werewolf found he was beginning to feel like he really belonged at Hiogwarts. And as time passed, and nothing else happened, James and Severus seemed to forget about his trip to the hospital wing - they stopped watching him like hawks - and just got back to be the irritating gits they normally were. Yeah - life was pretty good, all in all…

But far too soon - 28 nights had rolled past - and then it was time for the next full moon...


End file.
